Bluebird
by Lady Silvamord
Summary: It started as a routine mission - Sakura's second ever solo mission, and an opportunity too great for her to pass up. But then everything went horribly wrong. ItaSaku AU.
1. The List

_Bluebird _

_It started as a routine mission – Sakura's second ever solo mission, and an opportunity too great for her to pass up. But then everything went horribly wrong. ItaSaku AU; set immediately after the Gaara Retrieval arc in Part II of the manga._

_Chapter One: The List _

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It started with a list.

It had been a long day – one of the longest and hardest in recent memory. Sakura had woken at dawn and spent the next three hours training with Naruto and Kakashi-sensei, and after the shortest of breaks, she had immediately headed over to the hospital and then worked the longest and most grueling shift she'd had in weeks. The jounin exams were currently underway; taking place in Konoha, and the injuries sustained in the combat matches seemed especially brutal this cycle. In a matter of a few hours, there had been seven shinobi with serious internal organ damage to see too, as well as several more who had shattered, broken limbs or ribs that needed to be set and repaired. That wasn't even counting the amount that came in with stab wounds inflicted by kunai or other weapons. Not to mention that once all thatwas over, Sakura had gone to the lab at Shizune's request in order to help assemble a new batch of antidotes to the poisons that Konoha's enemies were most fond of using.

The sun was setting in a riot of vivid pinks and oranges that Sakura observed vaguely, almost too exhausted to keep her hands steady, as she triple-checked and capped the vials. She was ravenously hungry as a result of such a large amount of chakra use, and she had been thinking longingly of her soft, quilt-covered bed for the past hour, despite her most valiant attempts to stay focused.

And _that _was precisely when the messenger quietly entered the lab to tell her that the Godaime Hokage requested her presence in her office immediately.

Sakura came to stand in front of Tsunade's desk, hands clasped in front of her and her head bowed respectfully, and even though she still felt as hungry and tired as she had two minutes earlier in the lab, now, her heart was beating a little faster, and she couldn't ignore the curiosity fluttering through her veins. She had already met with her shishou earlier in the morning, as they always did, and she couldn't think of a single reason why Tsunade would summon her here again, unless—

"Sit, Sakura," Tsunade ordered, without looking up from the thick stack of paperwork that she was rifling through, a troubled look on her face. "You look dead on your feet. Give me a few moments to find the report that I'm looking for."

Sakura complied gratefully, although privately, she thought that her shishou looked even wearier than she felt. Frown lines had settled into the artificial youth of her face, making her look closer to her true age – and the faintest sense of unease stirred in the pit of the pink-haired kunoichi's stomach. There were few things that could truly disturb her shishou, and her first thought was of Naruto. Naruto, who had been as bright and rambunctious as ever this morning, despite the fact that the sun hadn't even been in the sky for half an hour. Naruto, who had advanced so much in the two and a half years that he had been away, that he was _still _amazing her…not that she'd ever admit it to him.

Naruto, who through no fault of his own, contained something that the world's most infamous criminal organization was currently desperate to possess. The memory of the desperate search for Gaara was still too close to the surface, and Sakura had to repress a shudder. That had only emphasized the danger that Naruto was in, and for an instant, she was gripped by a fear for him so strong that it nearly stole her breath away. If Tsunade had received word that the Akatsuki was near – if they were trying to take Naruto now, after their recent success with extracting Gaara's Shukaku, she would…

A memory of facing down that horrible illusion of Itachi Uchiha returned, and Sakura blinked and tried not to shift in her chair.

_You'll what? _Inner Sakura asked gloomily. _You'll try to fight against _that_? _

But she and Chiyo _had _fought against another Akatsuki member, and they had killed him. Sakura's stomach gave a painful twinge at the thought, an echo of where Sasori had impaled her with his poisoned sword. It had been the most difficult fight of her life, but she would do it again in a heartbeat, if it meant protecting her sole remaining teammate.

Finally, Tsunade set her stack of papers aside with a long sigh, regarding her seriously, and Sakura sat up a little straighter, steeling herself for whatever bad news her shishou had to give her. "Yes, Tsunade-shishou?"

Tsunade reached up to rub the back of her neck, her gaze not leaving her apprentice. "You are familiar with the treaty that we are trying to negotiate with Cloud, correct?"

Sakura nodded at once, trying to mask her surprise at the direction their conversation had taken. "And I understand your reasoning in doing so, even though…" she hesitated, knowing how unpopular Tsunade's idea had been with Konoha's council, and she wondered whether they had managed to harass her out of it.

"Even though the last attempt at a peace treaty ended up with Cloud's representative attempting to kidnap Hinata Hyuga, and the resulting…events that ensued," Tsunade finished heavily. "Yes. I know. But our villages living at the edge of war with one another is unacceptable in these times, when we should be united against the common threat of the Akatsuki."

Sakura inclined her head. She remembered the initial correspondence in which her shishou and the Raikage were trying to work out what the treaty would entail – but then Naruto had returned, and so much had happened since then. "Are things moving along well, shishou?"

"The negotiations are approaching their final stages," Tsunade replied, resting her chin on top of her interlaced fingers. "The Raikage is ready to proceed now, but I am not so sure."

This time, Sakura couldn't hide her surprise. In the time before Naruto had come back, when she had spent a few hours a day here in Tsunade-shishou's office studying the thick medical volumes from her personal study, she had overheard Tsunade arguing with her councilors about this. She had been extremely determined to make this treaty from the start. "If I may ask, shishou," she inquired cautiously, "why pause the proceedings now?"

By way of response, Tsunade just reached into the stack of paperwork and withdrew one slightly yellowed scroll. She placed it in front of her student, and Sakura glanced at it curiously, wondering what the significance was. It appeared to be a list – one that was made up solely of twenty names, none of which were familiar to her.

She looked up at Tsunade, noting the grim expression on her shishou's face. "Konoha jounin, missing in action since early last year," the Hokage explained. "Twenty of our best. It's as if they vanished – and there's absolutely no evidence that they were killed in action." She indicated her stack of paperwork. "The intelligence we have been collected leads me to believe that they may still be alive, which only means that—"

Sakura sat back in her chair as the weight of the implication hit her. "They could be prisoners of war," she finished, stunned.

"Right. And you know what a risk that is – they'd be tortured and interrogated for any information they could provide on the workings of the village."

Sakura tried not to flinch. Ino's dad had worked with Ibiki Morino before, and he had told them about the brutal methods that Konoha used to extract information from their enemies. According to him, though, in comparison to the other villages, theirs was quite humane. "But…the potassium cyanide tablets?" she asked quietly. "All jounin carry them when they leave on missions. They know what to do if captured by the enemy."

"True," Tsunade acknowledged. "But you should know that we've taken our share of enemies alive, regardless. Most shinobi know the common places to hide the tablets – in a necklace, in a hidden seam of a sleeve or glove or mask, or something of the sort. So other shinobi know where their prisoner is going to go, and if they're fast enough, they can beat them to it and destroy the pill before it can be ingested. And I'm fairly sure that's what happened in the case of these jounin."

Sakura stared at the list for a few moments, until the names before her eyes blurred. Emi Kido, Kiyomi Okui, Ryu Nakamoto, Kohei Okimoto…for this past year, had they all been forced into a shinobi's worst nightmare? Imprisoned and tortured for sensitive information about their village – which they had sworn to protect with their lives – and with no way out of their suffering? It was truly awful.

Sakura had to shake her head a few times to clear it, and only then did the realization sink in. Tsunade-shishou had this list, she suspected that they were prisoners of war, and she had just received information that made her reluctant to sign the treaty with Cloud—

She looked up so fast that she almost pulled a muscle in her neck. "Tsunade-shishou, you don't think—"

Tsunade massaged her temples with the tips of her fingers, scowling. "Our sources have ruled out them being captives of the other villages. It's either Cloud or Sound. While I do think it's extremely likely that Orochimaru could be behind this, I can't go ahead with the treaty with Cloud while I know that they might have our shinobi. It would mean that they've been double-crossing us this entire time, with the Raikage speaking of peace with me, while he sanctions his shinobi taking ours prisoner and torturing them for information. What I need is to know definitively, one way or another, which village has our shinobi." She paused, looking at her student contemplatively. "And that is where you come in."

Sakura stilled, startled by her shishou's word choice. It seemed to indicate a solo mission – solo reconnaissance. It was all she could do not to ask the Hokage to repeat herself in order to clarify.

It was downright shocking. Out of all the kunoichi in Konoha, she had performed the lowest number of solo missions, only second to Hinata, and that was just because the Hyuga clan would not allow its heiress to undertake such a potentially dangerous task. She had no clan to keep her from doing such a thing, and while Sakura understood that Tenten and Ino had quite different skill sets than hers, on some level, she did feel like it was demoralizing to be so far behind them. _Especially _Ino, who teased her about it on a regular basis.

But then the rest of Tsunade's statement sunk in, and her reference to Orochimaru and Sound made Sakura's throat go dry. She couldn't help but think of Sasuke (of the last time she had seen him, in the instant before he knocked her unconscious, and she wondered what he would look like now), and her fingers dug into the chair's hard wooden armrest so hard that her knuckles went white.

"You want me to go to Sound?" she asked, almost unable to hear her own voice over the thudding of her heart. Going to Sound, even if she were in disguise, would mean she could very well see Sasuke again, and perhaps if she could find him she could convince him to come home—

In response to her question, Tsunade only looked startled for a moment, before she shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "Sakura, I understand better than anybody else how much you have progressed, but I would never send you, or anybody else, there on your own. I intend for you to go to Cloud. The infiltration process will be much easier and less dangerous."

Sakura just nodded, hoping that her disappointment didn't show on her face. Tsunade, who knew her better than that, frowned, but refrained from making a comment. "I thought you would appreciate the opportunity to do something different," she said finally. "I know that in terms of experience, you've received far less solo missions than the other kunoichi, but your skill set seems perfect for this mission. Now, would you prefer to be briefed right now, or tomorrow at dawn?"

Sakura spared a brief, longing thought for the dinner that was likely waiting for her at home, but she brushed it aside. "Now would be fine, shishou."

"Good." Tsunade leaned back in her chair, tapping one long, red-painted fingernail against her desk as she spoke. "The primary reason I chose you for this mission is that, conveniently enough, Cloud is experiencing a shortage of medics right now. They don't have a comprehensive system for training medic-nin, and they're actually opening their village up to civilian medics because of the shortage. You have an affinity for genjutsu, and I intend for you to use that to conceal your true appearance. First, you will travel to Cloud, pose as a local civilian medic from one of the surrounding towns, and then gain entry into the village. From there, after a few days of work and scoping out the area, you will have to find a way to infiltrate the Raikage's office and search for any records you can find that indicate the detention of our shinobi in their village. If you find any such document, take the original, replicate a copy to hold its place, and bring the original back to Konoha _immediately._"

Sakura bit her lip, deep in thought, as she envisioned herself going through the outline of the mission. She wasn't trying to be arrogant at all, but it seemed well within her capabilities. She would have to be cautious, observant, and pay attention to detail in order to be successful and escape detection, and those were all qualities that she possessed naturally. Her last recon mission had been quite similar. There was only one thing that caused her concern. "Do we have a blueprint of the Raikage's building here, or will I have to find one in a library in their village?" she asked, at last.

Tsunade shook her head. "I have files on Cloud from the last recon mission that you'll need to study on your way there – it should tell you what to expect in detail regarding their village's security as well. It's been two years, so I doubt there would have been any significant changes that you would be unable to determine through observation."

Sakura nodded resolutely, once again analyzing everything the mission called for, and she felt the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. The twenty Konoha shinobi on that list were now depending on her in order to come one step closer to freedom. "I won't let you down, Tsunade-shishou."

The expression on Tsunade's face softened a little. "I know you won't. Now, you'll need to report here tomorrow morning at seven o' clock sharp so you can get the rest of the information you need…"

* * *

"…and those are the parameters for this mission. Tsunade-shishou said that I should be back approximately two and a half weeks from tomorrow."

For a few long moments, silence reigned at the dinner table, broken only by the gentle clink of Satoshi Haruno's chopsticks against the porcelain bowl. Next to him, Sakura's mother had put hers down as she stared at her only child, and Sakura had to bite her lip to keep herself from sighing exasperatedly. She knew it was only because her mother cared about her, but going through this before _every single mission _was so tiring. And she had grown so much stronger over the past two years, too, but even after her mother had seen the things she could do now, she was still so anxious about missions…

"You said this is a _solo _mission?" Sayuri Haruno repeated, her wide, expressive green eyes filling with worry.

"Yes, mom," Sakura replied patiently, throwing a glance at her ever-unruffled father. "It's nothing to worry about, though – it's really no different from the ones I've gone on before. Actually, this one is _less _challenging than some of the team missions I've done in the past…"

Her mother just sighed, obviously not reassured by her statement. "I don't mean to offend you, Sakura-chan, but this is just too dangerous. You're going right into the territory of the people who you suspect took those poor shinobi captive, and you're _spying _on them – what if they catch you? They won't want Konoha to find out about any proof that they have those captives; they might imprison you, or worse—"

Sakura interrupted, wanting to derail her mother's train of thought before she could get too worked up with morbid scenarios that would likely never happen. "I'll be careful, they're not going to—"

Her mother raised her voice, speaking over her effortlessly. "How do you know, Sakura? You're going to be all alone there; you won't even have any teammates to support you! I would feel better if Naruto-kun and Kakashi-sensei—"

Sakura dropped her chopsticks into her empty rice bowl, struggling to keep her temper under control. This had been the exact same dialogue that had played out before her last solo mission. "I don't need them to be holding my hands through every mission I go on," she said, through gritted teeth. "You saw me at the chunin exams, you _know _that I'm not the weakling I used to be!"

Across from her, her mother was obviously trying hard to restrain her temper as well. After taking a deep breath and pushing a lock of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear, she turned to her husband. "What do you think about this?" she asked, her voice tightly controlled.

Sakura watched her father warily. For as long as she could remember, he had always sided with her – from the moment when she first dreamed of being a kunoichi, like Ino, and begged her parents to enroll her in the Academy. Like her mother, he was a civilian – an accountant – but unlike her mother, he understood her. He had wanted to be a shinobi when he was young, and his parents had forbidden him from doing so. They had granted the privilege to his older brother, who had died sixteen years ago, during the Nine-Tails' attack on Konoha. For that reason, Sakura knew she could count on her father to support her. Not that it really mattered, anyway, part of her realized, because orders were orders, and missions could not be turned down unless there was a truly pressing reason…but at the same time, she didn't want to leave with both of her parents upset at her.

Satoshi Haruno placed his chopsticks down and pushed his bowl away with a quiet sigh. "As always, I trust completely in Tsunade-sama's judgment," he said, at last, sounding as always as if he was weighing each word deliberately before he spoke. "Yes, Sayuri, it does sound dangerous, but if Tsunade-sama believes that Sakura has the ability to perform this mission on her own and succeed at it, then I do as well. And I personally believe that Sakura is capable of any task, any mission, no matter how challenging, that she sets her mind to."

Sakura couldn't help but smile, pleased and proud at his praise. "Thanks, Dad."

Sayuri's gaze flickered from her husband to her daughter, and, her lips thinning with displeasure, she rose and swept out of the room.

Sakura sighed, running her fingers through her hair, and once her mother was out of earshot, she looked at her father pleadingly. "Every single time, Dad. Really? Of course missions are going to get more challenging as I rise through the ranks. She should know I'm not just going to _stop_…"

Her father rose from the table, before coming to stand next to her and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You know it's only because she cares, Sakura-chan," he admonished softly. "I will talk to her, but I don't know how much good it will do. Try not to be angry – you must understand that you are our only child. No matter how strong a kunoichi you become, we will always worry."

Sakura propped her head up in her hands, suddenly feeling all the exhaustion of the day catch up with her, and irrationally, her eyes stung with tears. "I know," she mumbled. "I know."

* * *

Sakura rose with the sun the next morning. She prepared on autopilot, as she always did for missions, methodically filling her pack to the brim with supplies, extra clothes, and medical scrolls and textbooks, before pulling on her typical clothes and securing her weapons. Finally, she shut the door behind her with a definitive, final-sounding _click, _and then made her way down the hall to her parents' room, listening quietly by the door. Deciding to give it a try, she opened the door softly and slipped inside – but her mother wasn't asleep, as she had expected; she was standing near the window and watching the sunrise, her arms crossed over her chest.

Sakura paused, but her mother turned toward her and held out one arm. In the soft morning light, she didn't look angry anymore – just calm and tired and resigned, with the fine lines around her eyes and mouth somewhat more pronounced.

She joined her mother by the window, hugging her tight, and Sakura felt and heard her sigh, holding her close, as if she didn't want to let go. But she did, as she brushed a stray lock of hair away from her daughter's eyes. "Be careful, Sakura-chan. Please."

Remembering her father's words of the previous night, Sakura just nodded, before embracing her mother again quickly. "I will, Mom. Don't worry."

She found her father waiting by the front door, dressed for work, and he put his arms around her for a moment. "I know you will do well," he told her reassuringly, with such obvious faith in her that it made her smile. "Come home safely, Sakura."

"I will, Dad."

She opened the door for him and watched him go, clutching his briefcase in one hand, until he disappeared down the path.

One hour later, after stopping by Naruto's apartment, climbing in through the fire escape, and writing him a note telling him where she had gone, and after a quick stop at the flower shop as well to leave another note for Ino, Sakura entered Hokage Tower for the last pieces of information she would need before beginning her mission – the last report on security she could expect to see in Cloud, as well as the list of the twenty Konoha jounin. She had placed the report in her bag to read when she took a break later, but the list, she folded and put in a secure inner pocket of her vest, close to her heart.

At half-past seven, she walked through Konoha's East Gate, passing through security detail without a problem. Sakura turned to look at the familiar and beloved gates of her home one last time before beginning her journey, and a sense of resolve swept over her, quite overwhelming her last vestiges of nervousness. She would help Tsunade-shishou find out exactly what happened to the twenty missing shinobi, so that hopefully, they would be able to return to their home someday soon as well.

With that thought foremost in her mind, Sakura leapt lightly and easily up into the branches of the nearest tree, and began the journey north, to Cloud.

* * *

_to be continued_

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Hello again, everybody!

I'm so sorry that it's been so very long – my first semester of college was extremely difficult and busy, and at the same time, I was struck with a case of writer's block unlike anything I've ever experienced before. Thankfully, I've got my inspiration back now, and this is an idea I've had for more than a year, but I never had the time to flesh it out until now. It's rather different from Lost and Found and Before The Dawn, and while I am always nervous before starting a new project, I really wanted to explore the ItaSaku pairing from a fresher angle. :)

I apologize for the slowness (and the lack of Itachi) in this chapter, but this was intended to serve as a prologue, of sorts. Things will pick up very soon.

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	2. The Crisis

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was considerate enough to review. :)_

_Chapter Two: The Crisis_

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Winter came early to the Land of Lightning, perhaps because it was so much farther north than Konoha. Sakura had always enjoyed this particular season for the gentle snowfall and the unusual beauty of the icicles and frost that formed on the trees and rivers – but Lightning had it in _excess. _It was downright freezing, the sky was a bleak shade of slate gray, and the sheer amount of snow on the ground made it difficult to walk. She doubted how people could even functionif they lived on the mountains that surrounded the area; from what she could see of them, they were even more thickly carpeted in snow.

Sakura cursed under her breath as she stopped to tuck the hem of her black, fitted pants into her boots once again, before buttoning up the purple coat she wore over her customary red vest, with nearly frozen fingers. She pulled out the compact mirror from her pocket and examined her reflection critically for the last time. She had carefully cast a genjutsu that Tsunade-shishou had taught her; one that couldn't be dispelled by the conventional genjutsu release technique, or be detected with use of most chakra types. It definitely created an illusion of security, but Tsunade-shishou had warned her that shinobi with certain bloodline limits might be able to see through it. She'd cited the Byakugan and the Sharingan as the foremost examples, but Sakura very much doubted that she would run into Sasuke in Cloud.

In any case, she had taken care to make her appearance as average as possible. She had made herself look taller and a few years older, while adding shoulder-length black hair and dark brown eyes – it couldn't get any more generic than that.

Sakura flipped the compact shut and pocketed it again, taking a deep, calming breath, and forcing her heart rate to stay steady, as she began the walk out of the forest and into the small border town of Iwate. It was located at the base of the mountains that the Village Hidden in the Clouds was situated, and according to Tsunade-shishou, this was where patrols of Cloud shinobi visited periodically, in an attempt to recruit local civilian medics. It didn't look very different from other small towns in the Land of Fire, but she scanned the area intently, taking in every little detail. There weren't many people out, likely because of the oppressive weather – just a few women, thickly bundled up under layers of sweaters and scarves, holding the hands of their small children as they entered a somewhat dilapidated-looking grocery store.

Tsunade-shishou had told her that she could find the Cloud shinobi in the town's clinic, and the clinic was easy to locate. It was appallingly tiny and looked as if it had seen much better days, and through the smudged glass doors and windows, Sakura could see three figures moving about. Despite the distance, she could make out the glint of their forehead protectors, and she swallowed over her suddenly dry throat. _Calm down, _the pink-haired kunoichi reminded herself sharply, and by the time she entered, her arrival announced by the incongruously cheerful chime of bells attached to the door, Sakura hid her apprehension behind a coolly professional veneer. She was posing as a local civilian, after all, and she forcefully reminded herself that they had nothing to fear whatsoever from Cloud shinobi.

There were three of them, she noticed; two males and a female, and thankfully, they spoke first. "Are you a medic?" the Cloud kunoichi asked, stepping forward and surveying her appraisingly. For her part, Sakura took an instant to subtly glance over the team. They looked to be in their early twenties, wearing uniforms not unlike those of Konoha's ANBU, and they were all heavily armed. Aside from the kunoichi who initially questioned her, one member of the team sat at the table, while the other lounged against the far wall, observing the proceedings silently.

Sakura inclined her head composedly, mentally drawing upon the script that she had perfected on the journey over here. "Yes – I'm from Tamamura, and I heard that you were recruiting."

"You would be correct. That's quite a trip to make…twenty miles, isn't it? But then, we've had a few potential recruits traveling from more than twice that distance."

"It's a wonderful opportunity," Sakura replied diplomatically, and the kunoichi smiled a little.

"It is. Of course, we have had to turn away most people for having unsatisfactory skills to complete even this relatively basic task, but we'll see how things turn out."

She turned and returned to the table, indicating that Sakura should step closer. "Your name and age?"

"Saya Yamamoto, nineteen."

The kunoichi made a small sound of assent in the back of her throat as she noted it down on her clipboard. "Very well." She indicated the other member of her team, who rose from his seat at the table and came to join them, and the gesture confirmed Sakura's initial suspicions – his entire left arm was wrapped with bandages and held in a rather rudimentary sling. "I'll need you to evaluate him. If you do a satisfactory job, you can accompany us up to the village and we'll drop you off with the head medic-nin at the hospital."

The kunoichi's tone made it clear that she wasn't expecting much – as did the weary expression on her teammate's face – and Sakura raised an eyebrow, before silently beginning to work. The man's bandages were rather stained, something that sent alarm bells ringing in her head as she supported his arm carefully and began undoing the too-loose bandages.

She bit her lip immediately as the wound came into view, and she felt him wince as it made contact with the open air. It was nothing she hadn't seen before, but it wasn't pretty – a long, deep kunai slash, running from shoulder to elbow, and then, after a slight break, from elbow to the middle of his forearm. The cut was deep enough to not just draw blood but to slash through tissue and muscle, and Sakura inspected the arm from a different angle, morbidly fascinated. The wound wasn't, well, _fresh_ – it was mostly scabbed over, but the scabs were moist, uneven, and were oozing in a way they really shouldn't. Whoever had initially tended to this wound had done so without the aid of chakra and had attempted to sew the gash shut with stitches, but those hadn't held well. The shinobi's arm wasn't bleeding, but from the swelling and the unusually rigid way he held it – coupled with the dark circles under his eyes, indicating lack of sleep – Sakura could tell that the damage incurred to the muscles and tissues hadn't been addressed.

She had seen a similar injury in one of the prospective jounin she had been tending to before Tsunade-shishou had given her this mission. It was fairly simple to heal, compared with poisons and internal wounds, which were both utter nightmares, and Sakura had to forcibly remind herself not to make it look too easy. She remembered the first such healing she had ever done, under the supervision of Tsunade-shishou. She had been thirteen, and it had been a long, somewhat shallower gash on Hinata's thigh. She had been so nervous at the time that she was practically shaking, and Hinata had waited with inordinate patience as she executed the procedure, taking twice as long as she should have.

Sakura frowned, and feeling the weight of all three Cloud shinobi's gazes on her, she directed a thin, erratic stream of chakra to her right hand. It was hardly anything; just barely enough to get the job done, but underneath her left hand, she felt his muscles give a telltale twitch of surprise.

It took much longer to do it this way, and though her precise chakra control made maintaining the unnaturally small output of chakra easier, Sakura made sure that an adequate amount of strain showed on her face as she guided her right hand over the wound slowly and carefully. Oddly enough, she felt a sense of relief in her own arm as her chakra worked to seamlessly sew together the man's shredded tissue and muscle, before sealing the gash as well, although (with a twinge of remorse) she took care to leave the ugly, jagged scar clearly visible, just to keep things realistic.

She released him, and watched his reaction carefully as he flexed the arm, stretching it several times. "It feels almost normal," he said wonderingly. "The muscles are sore, but it's nowhere near as bad as it was."

Sakura couldn't keep herself from smiling, and her pleasure was genuine. He may have been from a village that was historically Konoha's rival…but nobody – unless they were from Sound or a member of the Akatsuki or something – deserved to undergo prolonged suffering from an injury so comparatively easy to fix. The damage to his arm could have been permanent, and that would have seriously disadvantaged him as a shinobi.

"Impressive," the other Cloud shinobi, the one who had remained silent for the entire time, commented quietly, as he came to join them, while inspecting his teammate's arm. His gaze swept over her searchingly, and Sakura tried not to hold her breath. "But unusual. Very unusual."

"It is," the kunoichi agreed, watching Sakura speculatively. "The vast majority of civilians don't know how to utilize the limited amount of chakra they have at all, let alone control it in order to heal a wound. Who taught you? Do you know anybody who used to be a medic-nin?"

Sakura silently thanked Tsunade-shishou for anticipating this question and providing her with an iron-clad explanation. "My grandmother was a medic-nin from the Land of Whirlpools, but she left after the war. She didn't want my mother to be formally trained as a kunoichi, but she taught her what she had learned, and my mother passed down the knowledge to me." She smiled ruefully. "I'm nowhere near as good as my mother was, but I can do enough to get by."

"Hmm." The kunoichi made another note on her clipboard, before exchanging a glance with her teammates. "Well, you could do as an entry-level medic-nin. Perhaps the head medic will train you further, if you show enough aptitude."

Sakura's heart rate sped up a little bit – if she was correct, she had just successfully completed the first part of her mission. "So, does that mean that I…"

The kunoichi inclined her head, before turning and addressing the teammate whose arm Sakura had healed. "Keizo, go and tell the director to inform any other potential recruits that stop by here that we'll be back in two days. We're heading home."

* * *

The days flew by, and before Sakura knew it, one week had passed since her arrival in Cloud. She had spent the vast majority of that time working at the hospital and dealing with the influx of injured patients. It was an unfortunate situation; the number of injured shinobi was unusually high, and the number of medics disproportionately low. But despite the eleven-hour days that she put in at the hospital, she still made use of her limited breaks to subtly observe the oddly designed blue structure where the Raikage lived and did his work – an old study on the top floor of Cloud's library had a rather excellent view of the building.

Tsunade-shishou had said that somewhere in that building was where she would be most likely to find information regarding the missing Konoha jounin; probably in Cloud's equivalent of Konoha's Torture and Interrogations department. In Konoha, the Torture and Interrogations department was located in the basement of Hokage Tower, and according to the blueprint that she had been given on the onset of her mission, Cloud's department was in the back of the first floor. Sakura had been watching the security and taking note of changes in patrols' shifts and positions, and from her notes, it looked like there hadn't been any changes from the intelligence she had initially received.

Regardless of the fact that it was unhygienic, Sakura chewed on the end of her pen for a few moments, preoccupied, as she watched the sun begin to slip down the horizon. She still had one more hour to work tonight, but as she looked down at her detailed security notes for the fifth time in as many minutes, she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe tonight was the night. Tsunade-shishou had told her to use her judgment on this. She had been here a week already, and had been working dutifully. She'd even been given a Cloud medic-nin uniform, minus the forehead protector, of course, and nobody at all, from the head medic-nin, to the shinobi she had dealt with, to her fellow medics – seemed suspicious in the least. Furthermore, the uniform gave her the freedom to walk into the Raikage's building under the guise of carrying reports on the number of shinobi who were ready to be put back on the mission roster.

Sakura shifted in her chair uneasily, directing another look at the closed study door, and the movement made the folded square of paper in the hidden inner pocket of her vest brush against her heart. Besides, to be completely honest with herself – even though this was an emotion she considered much more suited to Naruto – she was getting restless. Remaining undercover for much longer, while the Konoha shinobi were potentially still imprisoned and facing torture by their captors, seemed _wrong. _She felt reasonably confident in her ability to act effectively tonight, and she could see no good in putting it off further. It would just make her even more nervous, while prolonging the suffering of the missing jounin.

Distantly, she heard a clock chime, and ignoring the agitated butterflies that seemed to have erupted in her chest, Sakura gathered up all of her paperwork and placed it back in her bag. She went over her plan one last time, and – nervousness be damned – in exactly one hour, she would begin the most crucial part of her mission.

* * *

"What is this?"

The leader of the Cloud security team took the thick stack of paperwork from Sakura's outstretched hands and began to rifle through it suspiciously, and she exhaled once, willing herself to maintain an outward projection of total normalcy and innocence. "It's the head medic-nin's updated reports on which shinobi can return to the active duty roster and which need to be taken off for the short or long term while they recuperate," she replied calmly. "I was ordered to deliver this to the Raikage's assistant, as he'll need it for tomorrow morning."

The guard showed no indication of hearing her words as he continued to search the papers for verification, and Sakura waited patiently. Let them take their time – though the head medic-nin had ordered her to do this half an hour ago, she had waited until now, because this current shift of guards was due to change in the next few minutes. By the time she dropped off the reports and returned to the ground floor, a new team would be positioned outside; one that had no idea that she was inside and should be coming out soon. This, hopefully – out of an instinctive nervous reaction, Sakura crossed her toes inside her boots and her fingers inside her pocket – would give her enough time to engage a concealment genjutsu and then make her way into the Torture and Interrogations Department.

"Very well," the guard finally said, depositing the reports back into her hands, and they stood aside to allow her to enter. "The Raikage's office is on the top floor."

She stepped inside and proceeded up the long, winding spiral staircase, her gaze flickering about quickly as she took in every detail of the building between steps. Thankfully, the entire area seemed to be quite empty, as it was close to nighttime, and the Raikage's assistant was the second person she saw in the entire building. The young woman took little notice of her as she dropped off the reports and stepped away.

Halfway down the spiral staircase, Sakura glanced around discreetly, making sure that there was nobody in sight, and she extended her chakra sensors to check whether there was anybody in the vicinity, before engaging her concealment genjutsu. Her heart was pounding, her neck was beginning to ache from how frequently she was turning her head to survey her surroundings, and her eyes were jumping around in her sockets so much that twice now, she had seen things in the shadows that weren't really there and had vanished upon second glance. As much as she hated to acknowledge that her mother might have been right, it would have been slightly reassuring to have at least one person along with her on this mission as well. There was a lot at stake, and being alone in the figurative lion's den made her very uneasy. After all, these were dangerous shinobi who had been capable enough to capture twenty highly qualified Konoha jounin…

It was her mother's voice speaking in her head now, and Sakura shook her head sharply, willing it to go away. There was no reason to start being paranoid and overly apprehensive now. She had done well so far on her own, and she was at the very last stage of the mission. She could – she _would _– succeed.

Sakura sensed the chakra signatures at the front of the building fade and then become something different altogether, indicating the changing of the guard, and she crept silently along the back hallway, until she reached the sign indicating the Torture and Interrogations Department, which was nailed to the solid oak door. She spared a moment to search for any chakra beyond the door, but the area seemed to be empty. The door was locked, as she predicted, but Sakura quickly pulled one of the pins out of her hair and inserted it into the lock, moving it around quickly until she felt it give way.

She slipped inside silently, locking the door behind her, and only then did she release the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Sakura looked around the area, matching what she saw with the blueprints that Tsunade-shishou had given her. This wasn't the detention area itself, which was underground, but after she tried three doors, she finally entered the office of the head interrogator. It looked much like Ibiki Morino's office, and Sakura blinked in an attempt to help her eyes adjust to the darkness. She summoned a small ball of fire born out of her own chakra to her hand and then waved it to the top of the room, where it hovered near the ceiling, cloaking her surroundings in a dim, eerie greenish glow.

There were a ton of filing cabinets in the office around her, floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall, and Sakura felt her stomach suddenly drop down about six feet. These had to be the department records, but she hadn't anticipated that there would be _so many. _If each cabinet had ten shelves, and each shelf was filled from end to end with folders and files…

Shaking aside her dismay, she approached the first cabinet quickly, picking the lock as quietly as possible; careful to not let the lock fall against the metal of the cabinet with an incriminating clang as she pulled the doors open. To her displeasure, they creaked loudly, and Sakura froze for an instant before she began to search.

She quickly found that whoever had filed all these documents had remarkable organization skills – everything was sorted by village, which made things a little bit easier on her. She passed through Sand, Mist, and Waterfall before finally finding the files on Konoha. There were several manila folders stuffed to the brim with papers, and Sakura noted with a sense of alarm that Cloud's information on her home was almost twice the volume of that of the other villages. She wiped her sweaty palms on her vest impatiently, wincing when the fabric made contact with the several paper cuts she had sustained in the past minutes, before grabbing the first folder on Konoha and flipping it open. She didn't have a watch on her, but she was vaguely conscious of the fact that she had been in here much longer than she was comfortable with.

Sakura hastily flipped through the stack of papers, her eyes blurring with the speed of her reading as she searched for anything even remotely resembling the list of Konoha jounin. One piece of old documentation caught her eye for a fraction of an instant – Cloud's attempted kidnapping of Kushina Uzumaki. The familiar last name startled her, making her frown, and her hand was already halfway to plucking the paper out of the list and reading it by the time she forced herself to keep moving. After several more papers, she saw Cloud's report on the next attempted kidnapping of Hinata Hyuga, and getting more anxious, Sakura skipped a whole chunk of yellowed documents before she finally reached the end of the folder, figuring that maybe it would be smarter to work backwards.

To her shock, the sixth paper that she saw was emblazoned with the title "Current Captives," and Sakura grabbed it in such haste that she cut her hand again and crumpled one corner of the paper. She scanned the list frantically, passing through the sections on Sand and Rock, and her heart skipped a beat as she arrived at Konoha. She read the names over again, her lips moving soundlessly, and with a sense of mingled satisfaction and dread, she realized that fifteen of them matched the list Tsunade-shishou had given her. This list was incontrovertible proof that fifteen of the twenty missing jounin had indeed been captured by Cloud and held illegally, and as she inspected it once more, Sakura felt a sense of almost overpowering, sick triumph that the list had the names of the Konoha jounin, printed on paper marked with Cloud's official insignia, as well as the signature of the Raikage and Cloud's head interrogator. She couldn't _wait _to get this to Tsunade-shishou – it was just the kind of confirmation that she had been looking for.

Though her fingers were trembling slightly out of combined urgency and adrenaline, Sakura rapidly but carefully folded this list into a square as well and placed it into the inner pocket of her vest, next to the original list. She felt it rustle against her heart as she gathered the Konoha documents back into the folder and stood to replace it in the filing cabinet, her mind buzzing restlessly. She had the documents she needed; now, all she had to do was use the back exit to slip out of the Raikage's office and then—

Subconsciously, the pink-haired kunoichi tensed up, because suddenly, the heavy silence in the head interrogator's office wasn't so, well, _silent. _There were no windows in here, but Sakura heard the unmistakable, yet barely audible rush of the wind, three times over. Anywhere else, she probably would have chalked it up to thin walls and a strong breeze outside, but here – she had learned in her week working here that that was the sound Cloud shinobi made when they materialized out of thin air as the result of a transportation jutsu.

Her blood ran cold, and the folder almost slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers. She turned slowly, telling herself not to panic, and knowing that they shouldn't be able to see her because of the concealment genjutsu, but then, with a sense of horror, Sakura noticed that one of the men in the three-person squad now standing in the room was staring at her – staring _right _at her – with oddly distorted eyes. The realization was cold and sudden and filled her with a sense of immovable dread – it was a bloodline limit, and just like the Sharingan, it must give him the ability to see through genjutsu. This was what Tsunade-shishou had warned her about…

He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, and to Sakura's alarm, her control over her own chakra slipped through her fingers despite her iron-strong grip, making her concealment genjutsu dissipate. Leaving her open to their gaze, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't control the dispersed threads of her chakra enough to assume the genjutsu again or even do the most basic transportation technique. This bloodline limit was unlike anything she had seen before; unlike anything she had ever _heard _of before.

"I knew it," the Cloud shinobi said slowly, his gaze flickering over her. "I told you I sensed something faint down here…"

The kunoichi next to him didn't seem to be listening; her gaze, Sakura realized too late, had zoned in on the folder she was holding. "A spy," she spat. "She must have been sent to get information on those jounin…didn't the Raikage tell us that he was expecting something like this?"

Sakura moved instinctively, forming the hand seals for her transportation technique, but before she was even two seals in, the remaining shinobi on the team unleashed a scything wind jutsu designed to break bones and knock the recipient into unconsciousness on impact. It tore toward her faster than the blink of an eye, and she heard the man with the genjutsu yell out, apparently foreseeing what she was about to do, but she dived to the side just in time, scrambling under the cover of the head interrogator's desk. She moved faster than she ever had before, forming the hand signals as rapidly as she could, and in the instant before the transportation technique kicked in, Sakura saw the unmistakable glint of a kunai whizzing right past her, missing her shoulder by a fraction of an inch—

In the next second, she landed on her knees in a snowdrift, panting and disoriented. Sakura glanced around desperately, her breath coming out in harsh, panicky gasps, as she pulled herself to her feet, her head spinning. She had pushed the transportation technique to its limits, and she vaguely realized she was somewhere on the outskirts of the Land of Lightning. Ignoring her dizziness, she began to run, directing chakra to her feet. She doubted that the Cloud team knew that she had actually taken the list with her as proof, unless they began to search the folders and realized that something was missing. She had to keep this list safe. If she could make it to a border town where she could hide out (she remembered from the study of her maps that there should be one about twenty miles west), that would give her a safe place to send it back to Tsunade…

Sakura bit her lip hard, trying to calm herself down and think rationally. _It has to be possible, _she reassured herself, curling her desperately shaking hands into fists. She had at least some of a head start over the Cloud shinobi, after all, because they couldn't possibly make it out of the village and start pursuing her in a matter of a few minutes. Even if they could, they would have no idea where she had transported to…true, the shinobi with the bloodline limit had seen through her genjutsu, but could he track someone who had vanished into thin air? As far as they were concerned, she could have gone anywhere, in any direction—

Despite her attempted reassurance, Sakura began to run faster, her surroundings blurring. The howling of the wind tore at her exposed ears, and the muscles in her neck now ached even more from her rapid glancing in all directions, as she both strained to hear and feared that subtle, quiet rush of air and pulse of chakra that indicated the arrival of the other shinobi.

She hadn't made it far, not more than seven miles, when what she had dreaded most happened: the air in front of her flickered, and the three Cloud shinobi materialized in front of her. Sakura stopped dead, taking one step back as she took in her surroundings and tried to assess the situation with as clear of a head as possible (if she couldn't run, then she had to fight), but she could hardly think because the shock was so great. How had they—

Perhaps her confusion was showing on her face, because the kunoichi smirked. "Your bad luck, little Leaf. We're a tracking team – I can pick up and follow threads of chakra so miniscule that you can't even hide them properly. It's almost like magnetism." She tilted her head slightly to the side, not making any effort to conceal her arrogant good humor. "You never even stood a chance."

"Enough," the remaining member of the team cut in calmly, and his gaze fixed upon Sakura, who stood as still as she could while thoughts and possible plans of action were racing through her mind at incredibly great speed. "I do not want to start an international incident between Cloud and Konoha," he continued. "Undoubtedly Konoha will investigate your absence if we kill you, since you will be the twenty-first shinobi to disappear in or near the Land of Lightning. The fact that you will have died during this mission will essentially prove to your Hokage that we killed you because we had something to hide, which we do not want."

He paused a moment to let his words sink in. "If you return the list you took to us and then go back to Konoha and say that you either could not find the list _or _that we simply did not have your shinobi, we will let you leave safely." He stopped again, obviously to allow her to think it over. "If you choose not to give us the list, however…"

He trailed off, but there was no need to elaborate on the alternative. Sakura knew with a sense of cold, detached certainty that the chances were that this was a lie (and an unconvincing one, at that), and they would _have_ to kill her, just because she knew the truth and would tell Tsunade. There was no way they could trust her to return to Konoha and then lie to her Hokage. Yet, for the briefest moment – when her thoughts drifted to her mother and father and her mother's worried voice – she was tempted, just a little, to test their bluff, because she realized that this was a dire situation; she was up against three older, more qualified enemy shinobi with undoubtedly formidable skills, and she didn't want to die alone on the outskirts of the Land of Lightning, without even a single teammate by her side…

"Okay then," Sakura said, her voice wavering a little, as she reached toward the zipper of the black bag she had slung over her shoulder. "I'll give it to you."

She didn't miss the brief glance that the teammates exchanged, before the man with the bloodline limit stepped forward, his hand outstretched.

Sakura took advantage of the few moments where her hands were out of the immediate line of sight to form five quick hand seals, praying that her fingers would remain steady despite the stress she was under, but in the next second, the Cloud shinobi's eyes rolled back in his head, and he dropped to the floor, his arms and legs convulsing wildly as his head jerked back and forth with similar violence. Sakura turned and ran even faster than she had earlier, leaping up onto the fragile branches of the evergreen trees and disappearing into the foliage. Distantly, over the frantic pounding of her heart, she heard the kunoichi gasp and the other man on the team yell with shock, and when she spared a moment to turn and look at the rapidly disappearing scene behind her, she saw the remaining male kneeling beside his teammate, trying to revive him.

In a fleeting moment of inspiration, Sakura directed chakra to her inner ears, trying to hear what their plans were, and she heard the kunoichi's – the leader of the team – shouted order that they had to leave him behind and pursue the target. The pink-haired kunoichi swore under her breath, her mind racing. Her odds in a two-on-one fight with these particular opponents were not good. She specialized in close-range combat, and from what she had seen of the kunoichi's weapons attacks and the shinobi's jutsu, they favored long-range fighting. Trying to dodge weapons and elemental jutsu at the same time was problematic; if she was going to have a fighting chance, she'd have to pick one off and then find a way to draw the other into close enough range where she could either get them with her chakra-aided strength, or with a medical ninjutsu.

Sakura had just enough time to make this observation before she felt an inferno at her back, the burning heat against her jacket warning her before it was too late, and she stumbled and leapt several feet down to the next tree. The jacket that the Cloud medic-nin had given her had been severely singed, and she fought to pull it off with her badly shaking fingers. She looked up to see the massive Katon continuing to tear through the forest, and before she could even try and get a fix on his position to try and attack with a medical ninjutsu, she had to duck and abandon her location again in order to avoid being impaled by the barrage of shuriken that the kunoichi had sent her way.

This time, she took refuge behind the massive shadow of an old oak tree, and the second that her feet touched the ground, a wall of water tore through another section of the forest in front of her, so powerful that it knocked several older trees to the ground. As Sakura watched the fearsome sight, her eyes widened as she realized the implications of the technique's location. It had originated in _front _of her. The male shinobi was faster than the Cloud kunoichi, and even (although he probably didn't know it) faster than _her. _He had unwittingly overshot her and believed she was somewhere further up in the forest than she actually was.

Sakura quickly realized what she had to do, and she proceeded through the ruins of the shadowy forest as quietly as she could – the canopy was tall and thick enough in places that it prevented any of the weak gray sunlight from filtering through. She found the Cloud shinobi within two minutes; he stood several meters in front of her, staring around the forest with narrowed eyes as he tried to judge whether the latest attack had caught up with her or not. He was two hand-seals into his next Katon before she attacked him with the same medical ninjutsu she had used on his teammate, and he dropped like a stone, his legs collapsing from underneath him.

She stomped an eight-foot crater into the ground and kicked his unconscious body inside just to be safe. _Two down, _she thought worriedly. _One to go…_

Before she was even finished thinking it; before she could even _think _about what to do next, there was a blur of movement across from her, on the other side of the crater, and Sakura found herself staring at the Cloud kunoichi, who was on her knees, looking down at her other fallen teammate with an anguished expression on her face. There was only a moment of indecision on her part before she glanced back up, and the spine-chilling rage in her dark blue eyes made Sakura take an unconscious step backwards. "My teammates," she said softly, before her voice twisted into a snarl. "I'll _kill _you, bitch!"

The kunoichi launched herself at her like a tiger at her prey, but Sakura was prepared for it – she caught her with a punch in the stomach that sent her flying several feet and into a tree, and she was just one hand seal away from incapacitating her when the other kunoichi staggered to her feet and summoned several more long, vicious daggers from the scroll on her back. This time, she sent them flying her way with strings of chakra, and Sakura had to fling herself several feet to the right in order to avoid them. She cursed again under her breath, glancing around in an attempt to get a fix on her opponent's position. She'd almost had her, but her concentration had been interrupted by the attack and she hadn't been able to finish the jutsu, and unbelievably, the other kunoichi had already recovered from the blow.

In the past, namely after the previous chunin exams, Sakura had wondered what it would be like to fight Tenten. The older girl was one of the few shinobi in her year that she didn't have a set 'plan' for combat with – for example, she knew that she would be well matched in a fight with either Neji or Hinata Hyuga, because they also fought very close-range, and it would be easy enough to land a good hit on them, if she was fast enough.

Now, she was getting an answer to her question. Tenten was even now one of the best weapons specialists in Konoha; short-listed for the next cycle of the jounin exams in a year and a half and probably looking forward to a promising career in ANBU after that, but as far as Sakura could tell, this Cloud kunoichi's skills in weaponry rivaled Tenten's. She had figured that it would be best to dispose of the team member with the bloodline limit first, because of the control he had over others' chakra, followed by the other shinobi, because of his speed, endurance, and the sheer destructive capability of his ninjutsu. She had thought that this would be the weakest link of the team for her to face. But so far, Sakura thought grimly, as she spared a moment to draw one hand across her sweaty forehead, she had been dead wrong.

The kunoichi determinedly stayed out of the reach of her chakra-enhanced strength, while interrupting every single one of her attempts at medical ninjutsu by throwing weapons at her, forcing her to break the pattern of hand seals while she dodged. It was perhaps the worst imaginable match-up for her. Sakura had always been decent at strategy, but every new angle, every tip she had learned from Tsunade-shishou or Kakashi-sensei…the other kunoichi kept dancing around it. If it weren't for the extraordinary stamina that she had gained in her training with Tsunade-shishou, Sakura was certain that she would have collapsed by now.

They had fought their way to the edge of the forest, near the side of a solid rock side of a cliff. For a few moments, neither of them moved, each watching the other warily. It was an odd thing to notice in a time like this, but for some reason, Sakura's attention drifted to the other kunoichi's long black hair, held in a ponytail, and the way she was blinking every time the wind gusted particularly hard, because her bangs – worn swept to the side, like Ino's – were fluttering into her eyes—

The idea came to her as suddenly as a flash of lightning, and when the breeze blew again and the kunoichi blinked, Sakura moved as fast as she could, materializing behind her, and she punched her in the back with shattering force. The kunoichi fell forward with a choked cry of agony, managing to avoid crashing face-first into the cliff wall by turning and absorbing the impact with her arm, but Sakura was surprised when she stumbled forward as well, and that was when she realized that the other girl's fingers had moved in a hand seal, and _she _had been gripped in chakra strings similar to what she used to control her weapons, and then pulled forward.

She was disoriented for a moment at being knocked off balance, and all she heard was the Cloud kunoichi's unsteady gasps for breath, and only then did Sakura register the kunoichi twisting an iron-hard, painful grip into her own hair. She realized what was going to happen a split second before it came, and she struck out blindly with an elbow, but it was no use. Using her fingers' purchase in her hair, the Cloud kunoichi pulled her head back and then smashed her forehead and the side of her head against the solid rock at the side of the cliff once, twice, over and over and over again, with surprising strength—

The impact was crushing, making lights explode behind her eyes, and it was agony beyond anything Sakura had ever experienced. It felt like her brain was turning into liquid, and the pain robbed her of any ability to even think of fighting back – it was so all-consuming that she couldn't even feel her limbs, and distantly, she realized that this was an attempt to subdue her in order to get the list back and kill her without any more of a fight, so that the Konoha jounin would remain captives of Cloud until they died or were killed—

The thought filled her with a sense of rage that seemed to overwhelm every inch of her throbbing head. Sakura could feel that she was about to crumble; her knees were weak and she was unsteady and she could tell that the repeated impact of her head against the rock had probably given her a serious concussion…

But Inner Sakura was not subdued; Inner Sakura had not been harmed by the assault, as strange as it would seem (_even though she lives in my head, haha, _Sakura thought irrationally), and it was the blinding intensity of her fury that gave Sakura strength. She struggled, even though she felt several hairs part company with her scalp, and she lashed out with her elbow much harder this time.

She was rewarded by the loud, satisfying crack of several bones and a high-pitched gasp of pain that bordered on a scream. The Cloud kunoichi released Sakura abruptly and stepped backwards, every one of her features contorted in agony as she held a trembling hand to her broken ribs.

Sakura watched, pleasantly surprised, but suddenly, she swayed on her feet, her knees almost buckling beneath her. Her vision went black for an instant and she reached for a support that she couldn't find. Standing up straight, she felt the full impact of the concussion, and even though she was disoriented, part of her comprehended how serious this was. It was a severe injury, and she would need to heal herself as soon as possible.

As her vision swam back into focus and she fought to regain her balance, she was a little perturbed to see the Cloud kunoichi watching her with a disturbing little smile on her face. It looked like it was taking all of her strength to remain standing, but the pallor of her face and her tiny, hitched breaths showed that she was going to collapse soon, regardless of how hard she pressed her hands to her ribs under her flak jacket, as if she could piece them together herself. Sakura found herself hoping, with uncharacteristic viciousness, that the broken ribs would thoroughly puncture her lungs.

She lifted one fist and drew chakra to it, intending to finish her off, but then, she froze. As in, she literally could not move a muscle, and her fear was all-consuming, but surely even a severe concussion couldn't paralyze her; she remembered reading that once—

Her eyes widened as the kunoichi straightened, taking shallow breaths. "I took a trick from your book, little Leaf," she said, in a perversely sweet tone of voice, even though every word was obviously an effort. "I saw what you did earlier, when you hid your seals by reaching into your bag. The jacket worked to hide mine just as well. You should be more observant."

To Sakura's horror, she could see that this time, when the Cloud kunoichi's hand disappeared into her flak jacket, it came out clutching a long dagger very similar to the ones she had thrown at her earlier. And in another situation, Sakura may have had been able to manipulate the chakra that held her in order to escape it, but her head was aching mercilessly, like it was being impaled already, and her vision was fluctuating, making her see double or not at all.

Sakura couldn't move her neck to look anywhere but into the kunoichi's eyes as she came to stand in front of her, still clutching her dagger, and there was no mercy in them when faced with her terror, just that same spine-chilling rage that she had seen earlier. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the kunoichi's arm move back, and there was one moment of paralyzing dread when she _knew _it was coming and it wasn't going to stop and this was all so horribly real and she couldn't even tense her muscles to prepare for it, and then—

Sakura choked on her own bile as the Cloud kunoichi stabbed her in the side, impaling her dagger hilt-deep in her ribs. She left it in for a few moments, enough for her to feel the sickeningly cold, foreign metal, so much like what she had felt a few weeks ago, when Sasori had stabbed her in the stomach during the mission to retrieve Gaara…

The kunoichi pulled out the dagger with one vicious wrench, giving Sakura a small smile, apparently blind to the stricken look in her eyes. "Revenge, little Leaf," she whispered. "We would have let you go if you had returned the list, but you dared hurt _my _teammates…and now, you'll never return to your little village and tell your leader the truth about those poor missing jounin."

She released the paralysis ninjutsu, and Sakura fell to her knees, all the breath leaving her body as she helplessly tried to put her hands on the stab wound, feeling the hot blood spurting out over and onto her cold hands, and she tried to direct chakra there, feeling everything that would need to be repaired, but the pain in her head was only getting worse, and she could feel that she was threatening to lose consciousness from the head injury alone… She felt nauseous, and her vision was still going black at the edges, and it hurt like her head was getting smashed against the cliff again every time she did so much as blink…

"It's futile, little Leaf," the kunoichi said, obviously enjoying herself, and to Sakura's confused rage, she easily avoided her attempt to lunge forward and break her ankle. Almost casually, she kicked Sakura in the head once more, and then in the ribs, and it was just so much pain on top of her existing agony that she hardly even registered it, save for curling around her stab wound more, protecting it with her chakra-laden hands, closing her eyes and trying to gain some control over the excruciating pain in her head. Over the stabbing, incomprehensible agony, she could hear the Cloud kunoichi's dispassionate voice still talking, sounding like it was coming from very far away…like a radio signal, breaking up. "You're going to die, probably within half an hour. And I hope the wolves find you when you lose consciousness."

With that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the forest, and as if it was happening at a great distance, Sakura heard soft moans of pain and dry, agonized sobs, and she only barely comprehended that the sounds were coming from her. She could hardly move, her head was so sore and she felt so weak from loss of blood (blood that was still spilling everywhere, staining the snow, her clothes, her hands), but she forced herself to sit up, pushing herself upright with shaking arms. Disoriented, she ripped at her shirt, fumbling with the zipper and searching for the inner pocket of her red vest, and finally, she managed to pull out the two lists: the list of Konoha shinobi that Tsunade-shishou had originally given her, as well as the list she had found in Cloud, confirming that they were indeed captives.

Her strength was leaving her fast, and even though the bloodstains on the snow were spreading further and darker and it was getting harder to breathe, she had to use her chakra for this first, before she could even think of healing herself. She _had _to return this to Tsunade-shishou, so that this mission would be worth something – so that if she died before the healing was complete, it wouldn't be in vain.

Sakura took hold of the lists, noticing with a sense of mild dismay that she had smeared blood all over them, and hoping that they would still be legible, and she desperately tried to summon chakra to her hands. She didn't have enough strength left to move _herself, _but the lists were small, and she could use a transportation jutsu to send them back to Konoha. Her hands didn't want to cooperate to form the hand seals (the ache in her head was so persistent now that she could hardly even remember what they were), but she gritted her teeth and did it, and finally, they disappeared in a swirl of cherry blossoms. She could only hope she'd done it right and they would find the right destination.

Sakura collapsed again, her arms giving out beneath her, gasping for breath. She was still bleeding, and once again, she put her chakra-covered hands to the stab wound on her side, and rolled over so that her hands and the wound were right under her. The snow felt good, and she couldn't waste any chakra – but she was drifting in and out of consciousness more so now than before, so that every few moments she felt like she was waking up from a deep sleep, and she couldn't seem to summon the strength or the concentration to direct the chakra to mend what was broken as well as she should have, because her mind wouldn't cooperate. _Heal, _she thought, as hard as she could, _just heal. _

The thought occurred to Sakura, vaguely, that these could be the last moments of her life. Perhaps it was the head injury and the unbearable pain, but she couldn't summon as much emotion as she felt she should. She just thought of Naruto's bright smile and the fact that she had never let him take her out for ramen like she had promised, and of the promises she had made to her parents (she felt another stab of hurt that went far beyond anything she had felt previously), but more than anything else, there was the savage hope that Tsunade-shishou got the lists, and that in the end, at least she would know what happened so that all of this wouldn't have been for nothing…

And then her eyelids fluttered shut, and everything went dark.

* * *

_to be continued_

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As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	3. The Aftermath

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was kind enough to leave a review. :)_

_Chapter Three: The Aftermath_

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The coffee had been made just how she liked it – strong, sweet, extra-hot, and vanilla-flavored, topped with just a little bit of cream. It seared Tsunade's throat with every sip, the sweet flavor and extra sugar helping her feel more awake, but she was too preoccupied to appreciate it as she normally did. She was still exhausted – she had been up late the previous night and it was barely dawn now – and her high heels were pinching her feet as she made her way toward her office, but the trivial discomforts barely registered. What had kept her up last night was what worried her now; the recent activities of the Akatsuki, namely, closely followed by the messy situation with Cloud.

Tsunade sighed as she glanced outside the window that she passed, barely taking in the spectacular peach-and-pink sunrise over Hokage Mountain. It was only belatedly that she realized that it was now the eighteenth of November – which meant Sakura should be arriving back in Konoha within the next day or two. And she was definitely looking forward to seeing what information her apprentice had managed to gather.

Tsunade unlocked and stepped into her office, glancing around out of habit to make sure everything was exactly as she left it the previous night. Regardless of what her intelligence department told her about Konoha's security, as long as Danzou and his supporters were still around, she would always be wary of spies. At first glance, nothing looked unchanged, down to the placement of the half-empty sake bottle on her desk, but as she got closer, she could see that there was something there that she didn't remember leaving out the previous night – something that looked like two squares of paper, both light yellow, and spattered with a few spots of dark red ink.

Neither of them emanated any kind of chakra that indicated that they hid an explosive note or some other trap, and frowning, Tsunade approached her desk and reached for the first of the papers. She unfolded the first and looked it over and for the first moment, all she felt was confusion. It was the list of the twenty missing Konoha jounin that she had given Sakura a week and a half ago, and she hadn't made any duplicates of that list—

She turned to the other paper and unfolded it quickly, smoothing it out on the desk and reading over it intently, and her heart nearly skipped a beat as she read the title – _Current Captives _– and understood what exactly it was. The Cloud insignia at the top was all too prominent, as were the signatures of the Raikage and his head interrogator, and Tsunade had to restrain herself from crushing the paper into pulp as she realized that this document confirmed the suspicions she hadn't wanted to believe – that fifteen of the twenty missing Konoha jounin had been captured and imprisoned by Cloud.

The Hokage could practically feel a vein in her forehead throbbing, and her free hand curled into a white-knuckled fist. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper in check. The next thought that occurred to her, making her frown again, was that it was very unlike Sakura to drop off a piece of intelligence as crucial as this without making her report – no matter how exhausted she had been. She had never done anything like that before…

Tsunade's eyes drifted open as she stared down at the papers in her hand without quite seeing them. But she remembered greeting the jounin teams patrolling the gates on her way over here; they had told her it was a quiet night, with nobody entering or leaving. Sakura wouldn't sneak into her own home under cover of a concealment genjutsu…

The realization hit her in an instant, and Tsunade dropped the lists as if they would burn her, remembering the spatters of dark red (_not _ink?) on the corners that she had seen – and her stomach turned upside down at the very thought; it _couldn't _be – but then she turned over the papers, staring at the unfolded backs, and she recoiled, despite herself. There were smudged handprints and fingerprints in blood (as if Sakura had been wounded badly enough for her hands to be covered in it) on the back of each paper, and they were small, slender, and unmistakably Sakura's.

_It can't be, _a small voice in her head kept repeating. _It can't be – even if she was hurt badly, she should have been able to heal herself and return_—

But the fact was that her apprentice _hadn't _returned to Konoha as she should have (perhaps she had used a transportation technique to send these because she _couldn't _physically make the journey back?), or sent any note about her injury or any possible delay after a healing along with these letters, or after them – again, extremely uncharacteristic, and the scenarios now playing in Tsunade's head were so troubling that she could do nothing more than stare at the wall opposite her blankly for a few moments.

She rose mechanically, pacing around the office. She remembered, of course, that Shizune's jounin team, composed of Raidou and Genma, were excellent trackers, whom she would trust more than anybody else on this mission. It was another two minutes before Shizune entered the office, slightly out of breath and greeting her with her customary bright smile, which faded a little after a moment. "Good morning, Tsunade-shishou – what's wrong?"

Tsunade gestured to the chair in front of her desk, willing herself to keep her voice steady. "Sit. I need to tell you something."

* * *

_Lightning_

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* * *

_

The wind was loud and harsh, howling through the bare, skeletal branches of the trees above them. Despite the thick red scarf knotted around Itachi Uchiha's neck and the fact that he was mostly covered by his heavy black-and-red Akatsuki cloak, the bitter cold seemed to tear right through him with every breath he took. It made his chest hurt and he began to cough hard, gritting his teeth to suppress the sound.

Itachi took care to remain mostly silent, as he always did, but Kisame glanced backward, understanding the difficulty the situation posed for him. "Why don't we set up camp for the night?" he suggested casually. "It's going to take us another four or five hours to get to the location, and the weather is getting worse. It'll be a pain in the ass to travel through a blizzard, and besides…" he grinned, baring his shark-like teeth. "I'm getting hungry."

Itachi knew that Kisame was more than capable of carrying on without difficulty, regardless of how bad the weather got – he understood the subtle concession his partner was making for him, and irrationally, he hated it as much as he appreciated it. His illness was slowly becoming more of a weakness than it ever had before, and that knowledge wore on his nerves. But he inclined his head slightly, knowing that there was no choice. If they kept traveling, he would only slow both of them down, and that would be utterly counterproductive.

"Right, then," Kisame observed, slowing his pace somewhat and surveying the area like a hunter searching for his prey, which probably wasn't too far from the truth. "This place is convenient enough – I sensed some wolves in that forest earlier, which means that there must be deer around."

He unsheathed the massive shark-scale sword he carried across his back in preparation for the hunt, but Itachi barely registered his words as he looked the newly freed sword over carefully. After all these years, he was almost as familiar with the oddly sentient Samehada as Kisame himself, and it had been a long time since he had seen the sword behaving in this manner. Confined from its restraints, it appeared to be twitching somewhat; vibrating; moving forward as if it had a mind of its own, tugging Kisame's right hand with it, and Itachi raised an eyebrow at Kisame questioningly.

Kisame was staring at his sword as well. "It senses blood," he explained, licking his lips in anticipation. "There must be a fresh kill nearby. Probably a deer, if it's bleeding enough that Samehada noticed it from this distance. The wolves probably did all the work for us, so we just need to frighten them off…"

In spite of the deep ache within Itachi's chest, he couldn't help but feel a little amused at the obvious disappointment in Kisame's voice as the two of them began to follow Samehada's lead. It guided them through the sparse forest with the same steady, unfailing accuracy that a dog on the hunt would show. Distantly, Itachi could hear the howling of wolves, and he could sense them moving quite a long way from there. He frowned slightly, but continued to follow Kisame. They finally rounded a corner, breaking out of the forest, but then Kisame stopped abruptly, going very still. "Huh," he commented, and Itachi could hear the confusion in his voice. "Looks like it's not a deer after all…"

Itachi caught up to him in the next instant, and when he saw what his partner had, his eyes widened in a rare, unguarded display of emotion. It was a girl, lying motionless on her side in the snow a few meters away, her back to them. Even he, with his badly blurred, failing eyesight, could clearly see that the snow around her was vividly stained with blood; the bright red that had soaked into the ice was just now beginning to be sprinkled with new snowfall.

Kisame was equally stunned, he could tell, but he recovered with greater speed. "Well," he commented dryly, turning away, "as we're not Zetsu, this isn't going to do for dinner."

Ignoring him, Itachi pushed forward and strode toward the girl's body, kneeling down at her side. He touched her upper arm carefully, noticing her clothing and marking it uncharacteristic for a civilian – a sleeveless red vest and dark, fitted black pants, tucked into knee-high black leather boots. Her skin was very cool to the touch, as was to be expected, but it wasn't the eerie, somehow lifeless coldthat meant that the person was dead. Perhaps this girl was approaching that state, but she wasn't gone yet; he couldn't tell whether she was still bleeding…

Unwillingly, his mind flashed back to that night; to kneeling beside so many other bodies just like this one (aunts, cousins aged five months to fifteen years, mother) and inspecting them to make sure – and a shadow flitted over Itachi's face. No, this girl was still alive. He had all too much experience with determining the difference between people who were struggling to hold onto life by a fragile thread, and people who had already let go.

Forcing those memories out of his immediate focus, Itachi tentatively turned the girl onto her back. His gaze immediately flickered to the tear in the left side of her vest, near her ribs. Underneath the tear, her vest was soaked with blood, and when he looked at the skin under the tear, brushing the material aside, he drew back slightly, surprised again. There was an ugly, partially-healed, somehow raw-looking wound there, and his mind immediately put a name to it. The girl had been stabbed with something larger and longer than the average kunai, but not as deadly as a katana.

He was vaguely conscious of the snow behind him crunching, and Itachi glanced up, distracted, to see that Kisame had reluctantly joined him. For some reason, his partner was staring at the girl's face intently, as if trying to remember it from somewhere, and then he gave an exclamation of surprise, taking a step back. Itachi directed a querulous look at him, and Kisame was quick enough to explain, staring at his partner as though he expected it to be obvious. "It was only a month ago, Itachi, remember? It's that Kyuubi brat's other teammate, the medic-nin trained by the Godaime Hokage. _She_'s the one that killed Sasori, along with that old Chiyo lady from Sand!"

Itachi made a soft sound of acknowledgement in the back of his throat, looking the girl over again, directing his attention at her face (and her distinctive bright pink hair) rather than simply at her injuries. Now that Kisame mentioned it, he did recognize her. "Sakura Haruno," he commented quietly. He berated himself for not recognizing her at once; she had been Sasuke's teammate as well. Sixteen, chunin, Tsunade's apprentice, and an A-ranked Konoha shinobi, as a result of the skills she had acquired in those three years' training with the Godaime Hokage.

"She isn't wearing a forehead protector, which meant that she was probably on a solo mission," Itachi said quietly, trying to piece the sequence of events together in order to better understand the situation, and how Sakura could have possibly ended up in such a state, alone and so far away from home. "She must have had an altercation with another shinobi – likely from Cloud – that didn't end well. Her opponent obviously stabbed her and left her for dead, but I suppose that she is a skilled enough medic-nin that even after she fell unconscious, her chakra flowed from her hands into her own body, which prevented her from bleeding to death."

"Good observation," Kisame replied, but then he pointed at the wide array of large, mottled purplish bruises on Sakura's forehead. "Looks like whoever fought her slammed her head against that," – he nodded toward the solid rock side of the cliff – "in order to make finishing her off easier." He sighed, sheathing his sword again. "Bit of a pity, isn't it? A kunoichi with enough skill to kill Sasori, dying so young," he commented casually, turning his back on them and beginning to walk away.

Itachi didn't move, and he couldn't help but reach forward and brush a lock of bright hair out of Sakura's face with slightly shaking fingers. She was so young, just Sasuke's age, and his heart broke a little at the thought of her dying alone, so far from home, carrying out a mission to protect the interests of her (_their_) village. It would be yet another painful sacrifice that loyalty to Konoha demanded, and he couldn't help but wonder if Sakura had parents or siblings anxiously awaiting her return, with no idea that she lay here, critically injured…

"You coming, Itachi? We still need to hunt," Kisame called, glancing over his shoulder.

Itachi looked down at Sakura one more time before making his decision. But then, there was hardly anything to decide, really – it was only a month ago that he had seen her standing before one of his projections, at the side of her teammates, her expression one of both fear and defiance. Later that day she had killed one of his comrades and showed great skill and courage in doing so. She had been so _alive_, and it was impossible that he would stand aside and let her end here. It would be tantamount to murder, and that was against everything he stood for. Passively failing to act now would make him as culpable as the shinobi who had actually stabbed her.

"She's still alive," Itachi said quietly but firmly, knowing Kisame would hear him. "She has a chance at survival. And I am not going to leave her to die."

Kisame stopped dead, turning back to face him disbelievingly, but the expression on his partner's face told him that he had indeed been completely serious. He knew that on the rare occasion when Itachi felt strongly enough about something to get stubborn about it, there was no dissuading him, but he felt like he had to try – this was just _insane, _even by Itachi standards.

"Look, Itachi," he replied, trying to reason with him, "even if this girl isn't a lost cause – which I think she is; she's lost way too much blood and her healing job on herself was awful – we can't just ignore our schedule and go hours out of our way to drop her off at some village clinic. They probably won't be able to help her anyway, since they only have medics with the most rudimentary training—"

"I do not intend to take her to a village clinic," Itachi responded implacably. "She is obviously not a Cloud shinobi, which means that the people in attendance at the clinic would be obligated to turn her in to the next Cloud patrol. That, in turn, would lead to either the Cloud shinobi who had tried to kill her now having the opportunity to do so, _or _that she would be imprisoned and potentially tortured for information."

Kisame took a deep breath, frustrated. While he respected his partner's nature, it did make things very difficult sometimes. "Fine," he said tersely. "What do you have in mind, then?"

"I want to bring her with us," Itachi said simply, ignoring the way Kisame's jaw dropped. "The wound in her side needs to be properly tended to, and there might be more to that head injury that meets the eye. There could be a fractured skull, or a severe concussion, or even a degree of bleeding in the brain, and I am confident that I have enough of a grasp on medical chakra to deal with all three."

Kisame shook his head, temporarily speechless. "What do you think the Leader is going to say about this?" he snapped, the tension in his voice revealing which Leader they meant. "I'm sure he won't be happy—"

"Fine," Itachi replied, the first traces of impatience creeping into his tone. "You can continue on to our destination. I will take Sakura somewhere else and heal her there. Then I will meet up with you on a later date andI will explain my actions to the _Leader, _while leaving you completely out of it."

Kisame raised his eyebrows, momentarily stunned by his partner's words, and his uncharacteristically sharp expression and tone. "…All right," he finally conceded grudgingly, turning away and lifting his hands, exasperated. "Do what you want, but there's no need for that. Eight years we've been partners, and we've never split up once. I'll be damned if we do because of _this._" He gestured toward Sakura, his irritation obvious.

"Very well." Pleased by his partner's acquiescence, however reluctantly it had been given, Itachi picked up Sakura very carefully, tucking one arm behind her back and the other under her knees as he stood up, holding her close. She was light in his arms, but it was a strain nevertheless, and Itachi closed his eyes and restrained the urge to cough, momentarily feeling lightheaded.

He opened his eyes to find Kisame eyeing him, looking somewhat concerned, and Itachi preempted the inevitable query. "We have to keep moving."

Kisame nodded, and they continued on, and Itachi glanced down at Sakura once more. She was still disturbingly motionless and unresponsive, and he felt the faintest stirrings of worry in his chest. He hoped, with unusual fervency, that she would be able to hold on for just a little bit longer.

"So," Kisame spoke, after a few minutes. "I guess this means we're not stopping for dinner?"

The look that Itachi shot him effectively silenced that line of query, but for the next few miles, Kisame chuckled over it to himself. It looked like his partner had found the one other thing, besides his younger brother, that brought out his uncanny impression of a worried mother duck.

* * *

The guest bedroom in the house where he and Kisame typically stayed whenever they performed missions in this section of the Land of Lightning was small but warm, and fully and comfortably furnished, so it served their purposes perfectly. Itachi had never been in here, though this room had always been across the hall from his, and he glanced around, instinctively checking it for traps or foreign chakra, as he carefully lay Sakura down on the bed. He noticed, again, that she did not move or stir even once – she had been completely motionless since they had found her, through the hours of travel, and that was worrying.

Itachi unzipped her boots and worked them down her legs and off her feet, and Kisame, who was hovering near the door, cleared his throat, before coming to join him. "What should we do next?"

It was a good question, and Itachi sat down on the bed, considering exactly that. He and Kisame were both capable enough shinobi that it had been a long time since he had used medical chakra for anything more than healing routine slashes and scrapes. Awkwardly but gently, he twined his fingers in Sakura's hair as he thoroughly inspected her head for any sign of injury. There were no other cuts on her scalp and no signs of a fractured skull, and, concentrating intently, he summoned a thin, slightly pulsing sheet of pale green medical chakra to his palms. He directed his chakra over the bruises on her forehead, performing the steady, repetitive motion until the marks slowly vanished, and then Itachi rested his entire palm on her forehead, cautiously letting the chakra sink through her skin, in the hopes that it would soothe whatever injuries had been sustained.

He had always had an adequate grasp on how to use chakra for medical purposes. As he had been told so many times growing up, his chakra control was exceptional, lending itself easily to medical techniques. During his time in ANBU, as a result, Itachi had been trained as his team's backup medic, and since then, through use of the Sharingan as well as through study, he had refined his skills even further. To some extent, he actually enjoyed using medical chakra. There was something he found innately appealing and satisfying about using one's own power to correct damage and injury and eliminate another living being's pain.

He heard Kisame clattering around in the bathroom, and the other Akatsuki member finally came out, holding a towel soaked in cold water. "I figured this would do something for any inflammation there might be while you're busy re-healing her ribs," he muttered, depositing it on Sakura's forehead. "What's wrong with you?"

Itachi shook his head, realizing belatedly that Kisame had caught him frowning again. There was no need to fill his partner on in his developing concerns yet. "Nothing," he replied vaguely. "I should heal the stab wound before helping her warm up."

"Oh, really?" Kisame asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively, and Itachi's eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. To his displeasure, his partner just snorted, obviously amused. "Well, you have fun with that – I'm going down to the kitchen to see if there's any food. I bet you'll be hungry after the healing and she'll need to eat if she wakes up."

With that, Kisame left, shutting the door behind him and leaving the two of them alone, and Itachi turned his attention back to the unconscious Sakura, now feeling more than a little uneasy. He knew it was irrational, as what he was about to do certainly wasn't for any deviant purposes or anything of that sort, but…still.

Part of him was chiding himself for being immature. It was something that needed to be done, and like any medic-nin, he had to be focused and professional about this.

That didn't stop Itachi from feeling rather uncomfortable as he almost hesitantly pulled the zipper of Sakura's vest all the way down, before carefully easing the shirt off her body. For the sake of decency and being respectful, he studiously avoided looking anywhere but at the puckered, painful-looking stab wound on the left side of her rib cage. It was mostly healed, but sloppily done – which could be expected, as she was unconscious at the time. He had never heard of a medic-nin being able to use chakra to heal themselves in such a passive state, in any case.

He had seen quite a few injuries like this during his time in ANBU, so it was not particularly challenging. As Itachi sat by her side and slowly, meticulously guided his chakra into the wound, correcting what had to be corrected, he couldn't help but think about how much he preferred this to what he had done for most of his life since early childhood. The clan had pushed him into shinobi training early and fast-tracked him into ANBU, and he quickly found that the majority of the 'work' that they did for Konoha was nothing more than murder for hire. It was despicable, and he had never been able to understand how so many shinobi could do such things with a clear conscience.

If he'd had a choice – if the clan had been less power-hungry; less ambitious; less desperate to use him, the heir, as their ultimate asset in achieving their goals – he would have chosen to do this, instead, in a heartbeat, regardless of all the potential they said he had. Work as a medic-nin was one of the few facets of the shinobi lifestyle that would have fit in with his ideals. Sakura was truly lucky to be able to cultivate her remarkable talent.

Itachi felt a pang of regret, which he tried his best to shelve, as he directed his chakra over Sakura's skin once more, healing even the scar the weapon had left behind. But there was no point in such frivolous thoughts and could-have-been's – life offered no second chances. He stood up, noticing that Sakura looked more peaceful, somehow, and that some of the pain had faded from her features.

But she still hadn't shown any sign of regaining consciousness, and Itachi couldn't help but feel worried. Perhaps she just needed more time to recuperate…

The pulse in her throat was steady and stronger than it had been when they had found her, though, and Itachi watched it silently for several long seconds. One could tell a lot about a shinobi's aptitude by their skin, and Sakura's was smooth and flawless. Unmarked.

Upon realizing what he was doing, Itachi redirected his gaze, now positively certain that it was getting warmer in the room, and involuntarily, he noticed that one of Sakura's bra straps had slid off her shoulder, leaving it bare. The thin, silken piece of fabric contrasted quite jarringly with the rich golden coverlet, and Itachi reached for it automatically, and then froze, warring with himself for a moment.

Finally, tentatively, he hooked one finger around the impossibly delicate emerald green strap and placed it back on Sakura's shoulder, his touch lingering for a fraction of a second too long. It was impractical, really – silk and lace, and…

Mortified at the direction his gaze and his thoughts had unwillingly drifted to, Itachi turned around abruptly and retreated to the bathroom. The mirror provided confirmation that his pallor had, indeed, taken on an unusual and uncharacteristic shade of red. As penitence for his atypical lack of discipline, he absorbed himself in washing Sakura's vest in the sink, scrubbing it thoroughly until no traces of blood remained, and until his fingers were wrinkled and his palms stung from the hot water. The exhaustion of the past twenty-four hours – the intense travel, the customary strain his illness put on his body, and the chakra exertion of the healing and the transport – was beginning to sink in, and Itachi felt suddenly weary as he hung Sakura's vest up to dry on the towel rack, even as he tiredly resolved to stitch the tear in the vest soon, before she regained consciousness.

He stepped into her bedroom again, standing by her side, and he reached out, pressing the back of his hand against her pale cheekbone lightly in an attempt to ascertain her temperature. It was still a little low, and for some reason, Itachi couldn't help remember the way Shisui would brag to him about his 'sure-fire, fail-safe method' of getting closer to his female teammates on missions that took them to cold places. He would tell them – an outrageous lie, of course – that the only way he could warm them up quickly was if they leaned in close and let him rub his chakra-warmed hands on them. Itachi's mother had overheard this story once and given Shisui a thorough chastising, and while he had remained poker-faced in his mother's presence, he and Shisui had laughed about it afterwards.

The memory filled him with a bitter, painful mix of amusement and sorrow, but mostly sorrow. His lips twisting into a thin line at the thought of how much Shisui would disapprove of him right now, Itachi took Sakura's blankets into his hands and held onto them for a minute, infusing thin strands of his chakra into the fabric until the blankets were warmed thoroughly. He wrapped them around her with care and watched until the faintest tinges of warmth returned to her skin, and only then did Itachi leave, looking at her once more over his shoulder.

* * *

Normally Kisame wasn't a fan of ramen, but considering that until five minutes ago he had been so ravenously hungry that it felt as if his stomach was devouring itself, he wasn't in the mood to complain. As a matter of fact, these were the best noodles that he had tasted in a very long time.

He was lost in his contemplations of how much he hated dinners late enough they could technically be called very early breakfasts, when he heard the floorboards creak. He turned to see his partner making his way into the kitchen, and he swallowed half of his mouthful of ramen in order to make speaking a little easier. "Chicken ramen's in the pot," he managed. "It was instant, so don't expect much."

Itachi just nodded as he helped himself to a large portion, and Kisame could see that he looked dead on his feet – but still slightly better than he had earlier, and certainly more comfortable, in a worn pair of gray-and-black plaid pants and a loose black t-shirt, with his hair damp from a shower. Holding his bowl in one hand, he joined his partner in the living room, before sinking down into the opposite sofa and beginning to eat.

The two of them ate in silence, as they typically did, but unusually enough, Itachi was the one to break it. "You look preoccupied, Kisame."

Kisame sighed, downing the remainder of the overly salty soup in one large gulp. "I was just thinking about the kunoichi's reaction when she wakes up. She saw us recently, and she's the Godaime's apprentice, which means that she has to be aware of our organization and what we're trying to do to her precious little teammate – so of course, she _must _hate us. I expect she'll wake up, realize who we are, and you know Konoha shinobi – she'll probably try to fight us on principle."

He rolled his eyes. "Firstly, it'll be a pity to have to kill her after you just expended so much effort on getting her here and fixing her up. Secondly, assuming the girl has _some _sense and she is so paralyzed with fear that she doesn't try to attack, she'll have to wonder why we, the evil Akatsuki members," – he smiled sardonically, exposing his rows of shark-like teeth – "…saved her from certain death out there in the middle of nowhere. And _that _creates sticky questions, don't you think? It makes things very troublesome."

Itachi inclined his head, processing his partner's words as he chewed his mouthful of decidedly rubbery noodles. Kisame made a lot of valid points, as he always did – and privately, he was a little disturbed by the fact that he, personally, hadn't thought of all of these considerations already. It was very uncharacteristic of him.

"Sakura is a smart kunoichi," he replied, in his typically unexpressive voice, after giving it some thought. "I doubt she will be in any condition to attack us immediately after regaining consciousness, and I believe that, considering both of our…reputations, she will have enough of a sense of self-preservation to not do anything foolish. She will likely immediately deduce that we must have had a motive in helping her; that we did it for a reason. Her abilities, as the Godaime Hokage's apprentice, are well known."

Kisame grinned. "We could always say we saved her to heal your eyes – hey, that means that you not only got to appease your conscience by not letting her die, but you're getting a free healing out of it too!"

Itachi raised an eyebrow. "I dare say I could attempt to my own eyes if I studied the technique thoroughly and tried hard enough," he replied, intrigued by the possibility. "…But yes, Kisame, that sounds like a valid motive. We will lead Sakura to believe that from the time she wakes up."

Kisame nodded, satisfied, before raising his unnaturally long arms in a luxurious stretch. "Well, now that we've got that figured out, I'm going to bed. There are more instant noodles in the pantry if you want some."

"Good night, Kisame."

Itachi watched as Kisame disappeared into his room, the only one on the lower story of the house. Once he heard the door shut behind him, he allowed himself the luxury of a long, tired sigh as he reached up and massaged his aching temples, lost in thought and his own private worries.

* * *

_Konoha_

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Tsunade couldn't remember the last time she had a stress-induced migraine this horrible. Even the dim rays of fading sunlight that slanted through the window and onto the floor of her office were painful to behold, but she remained composed, staring evenly back at the team facing her.

Shizune, Genma, and Raidou had left as soon as she explained the situation and her worries about Sakura's status to Shizune, before the sun had even finished rising, early that morning. The three of them had remarkable chakra reserves, and they had transported directly to the border of the Land of Lightning. From what she understood from the hasty written report that Shizune had sent her prior to their return to Konoha, a few hours later, they had found a lead in their case.

The Hokage closed her eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers, before looking around at the three people in her office again. Her gaze lingered on the dark-haired Cloud kunoichi whom Shizune was holding in a formidable, iron-strong grip. The woman could barely stand up straight, but she kept struggling futilely, defiance clear in her eyes. "Continue," Tsunade ordered, her voice much calmer than she felt.

Genma spoke first, after clearing his throat. "We arrived at the border of the Land of Lightning and began to search for Sakura as you had ordered, Tsunade-sama. We didn't have any luck, but as the evidence was that she had been in some kind of fight with a Cloud shinobi before she sent you the intelligence, Raidou suggested that we check all the clinics in the surrounding civilian areas first, because anybody who faced off against Sakura certainly had to have sustained some kind of injury."

Tsunade nodded, a frown creasing her brow, and Genma kept speaking, indicating the Cloud kunoichi contemptuously. "We found her in the clinic of some town called Chikuzen, where some medics were trying to fix her up—"

"And as soon as we overheard that her ribs had been broken with one elbow strike in a fight with a foreign kunoichi, we knew," Shizune cut in grimly. "We asked her some questions, and then we thought it would be best to bring her in to you immediately."

"And Raidou?"

"He's still in Lightning, searching for Sakura, but…" Shizune trailed off, looking away, and obviously too anguished to continue.

Tsunade stood up, struggling to keep her temper under control as she wondered what the kunoichi had revealed that could elicit that kind of reaction from her long-time student, and she glared at the captive, who still struggled, looking defiant. "What happened to the pink-haired kunoichi that you fought?" she demanded, before picking up the two lists that Sakura had sent her. "Whatever you did to her, you didn't succeed," she continued coolly, hoping that this would increase the chances of extracting some information. "She still managed to get me the critical intelligence that she had been sent to find – the list of the missing Konoha jounin, which I now know have been illegally captured and held by your village."

She had the pleasure of seeing the kunoichi's eyes widen with shock, but in the next instant, she seemed to recover somewhat, raising her chin and meeting Tsunade's gaze unflinchingly. She had nothing left to lose by being honest. The list had fallen into Konoha's hands, and all was already lost.

"I killed her," she said flatly and remorselessly, and underneath it all, there was an undercurrent of pride. Konoha might have won, in the larger scheme of things, but she still had the small satisfaction of taking away a shinobi so precious and valuable even to their own Hokage. "It was a hard fight, though. I got the upper hand for a moment, and that was all it took – I smashed her head against the rock cliff side until she could barely stand." She gestured to her ribs, her face twisting with hatred and pain. "That's when she broke my ribs, but then I killed her. I put a paralysis jutsu on her when she was disoriented from the head injury, and then I stabbed her in the ribs with a long dagger."

The nightmarish words hardly had enough time to sink in before the kunoichi continued, her tone casually conversational. "She was bleeding all over the place and was already half-unconscious because of the head injury. I don't know how she even managed to send those back. But in any case, she's probably long dead by now. Bled out."

There was a thick, heavy, tense silence in the office, and this time, the words _did _sink in, and Tsunade was faintly conscious of the fact that her hands were trembling. It was all of the rage and disbelief she had felt this morning, except now it was multiplied a thousandfold, because it was real.

(But it didn't seem real, and it couldn't be, it just couldn't be, that Sakura, her apprentice, who could smash concrete walls into dust with one punch and create massive canyons into the ground with a kick and heal with a proficiency unlike Tsunade had seen in anybody but herself and Shizune, was dead, gone, ended, never to ask her a question about the application of medical chakra ever again; lying broken in the snow somewhere in the middle of the Land of Lightning.)

Her nightmare; her worst-case scenario, embodied.

The sharp sound and accompanying puff of smoke signaling Raidou's arrival startled everybody, and when the smoke cleared, Tsunade could see that he looked drawn and pale from using so much chakra to transport himself over such a staggering distance twice in one day. But before she could even truly get her hopes up, she read the answer in his face. He shook his head wearily. "I'm sorry, Tsunade-sama. I've been searching for hours. I can't find her anywhere. Unless they've relocated her body to Cloud…"

The Cloud kunoichi just scoffed. "Not likely. There's a lot of wolves in the forest near where she collapsed, and they're always on the lookout for an easy meal."

Before Tsunade could react, Shizune did, tightening her hold on the kunoichi and deliberately placing more stress on her half-mended ribs, with a venomous glare, while Genma and Raidou sent her a look of deepest loathing.

Several moments passed before Tsunade could trust herself to speak or to move a muscle without crossing the distance between herself and the Cloud kunoichi and impaling the impudent bitch with the kunai she always kept on hand. Finally, she recovered her voice and indicated the door. "Genma, Raidou, please remove her to the Torture and Interrogations Department. Ibiki is expecting her."

Shizune knocked the kunoichi unconscious with one swift pulse of chakra, before she could react, and handed her over to her teammates. Only when they left, after murmuring a few quiet words of reassurance to Shizune and closing the door behind them, did Tsunade allow her legs to give out under her. She collapsed into her chair heavily, burying her head in her hands. Her heart was racing and she already felt a potent mixture of anguish and guilt racing through her veins, but it was Sakura who had paid the price, and—

She was vaguely aware of Shizune joining her, placing a hand on her shoulder and trying to comfort her, her voice similarly choked with tears, but it was no use. All that Tsunade could think about was the fact that her apprentice; bright, intelligent Sakura, was missing in action, presumed dead, and she felt her heart breaking in two.

* * *

_Lightning_

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* * *

_Sakura dreamed in brief flashes of horrible things that made no sense and were so disturbing that she actually _tried _to free herself from them, fighting to wake up. She was too warm, and no matter how hard she tried to throw the covers off her body and open her eyes, she couldn't seem to move a muscle. Her limbs were sluggish and sore, and it felt like they took an eternity to respond to her simplest commands, but finally, after much effort, she pushed the blankets off of her upper body as she managed to lift her swollen, leaden eyelids just a little.

As Sakura stared at the ceiling, and then at the mess of blankets she had just flung away so insistently, there was a fleeting moment of confusion – why were there blankets, anyway? But that train of thought faded away as she tried with difficulty to push herself up into a half-sitting position, leaning against the headboard. For some reason, her head ached, and she blinked and looked around several times, disoriented. She was lying in a small, empty, comfortably furnished room, and that only served to confuse her further. Where was this, anyway? What was she doing here?

She tried to remember, raking her fingers through her hair in frustration, but to her dismay and alarm, there was nothing, not even a memory of falling asleep here (was this her house?). It was a complete, total blank.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and something so very _outlandish _walked in and headed straight for her dresser, muttering something about somebody with a strange name always misplacing the red thread, that Sakura blinked, briefly wondering whether this was a hallucination, or some extension of the equally strange things she had dreamed about. The…person now in her room looked a little over eight feet tall, and she had seen the glint of teeth that didn't look quite human_, _and he was blue and he actually appeared to have _gills. _On top of all that, Sakura noticed, bemused, he was wearing a very unusual cloak indeed – black, embroidered with many red clouds. She had never seen anything quite so strange before. Who was he, and what was he doing in her room? Unless, of course, he was the landlord or something, which would explain why he had the key to her room in the first place…

He turned away from the dresser, grasping a spool of red thread that looked ridiculously tiny in his massive hands, and in that instant, he noticed her sitting up and staring at him. Sakura froze, startled, her heart leaping up into her throat – but for some reason, _he _froze as well, staring back at her and looking tense and wary, like a predatory animal ready to attack at the slightest provocation. On some level, she recognized that it was odd that he looked that way; she didn't think that she posed a very threatening picture at the moment.

The awkward, uneasy silence stretched for a few long moments before he finally broke it. His voice was rough and he still looked cautious. "So…you're finally awake, huh?"

Slightly put off by his word choice (what had he meant by _finally_, and did he know her?) Sakura nodded once, feeling quite discomfited. "I am."

He didn't say anything else, just kept staring at her as though she was an explosive note ready to detonate in his face, and Sakura fidgeted slightly, flustered, and at a loss for what to do. Perhaps it would be best to be honest.

"Sorry," she finally said, in her calmest and most polite tone, and his gaze narrowed a little bit, as if he were surprised. "It's just that…I really don't mean to be rude, but who are you?"

* * *

_to be continued_

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_I would just like to take a moment to say that I am absolutely blown away, and very grateful, for the amount of feedback this story has generated so far. Thank you so much for taking the time to leave your comments – I love reading and appreciate each and every one of them, and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. :)


	4. The Realignment

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was amazing enough to leave a review. :)_

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_Chapter Four: The Realignment_

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"_I regret to inform you that, to our village's knowledge, Sakura's mission in Cloud has not gone as we expected. At this moment, she has been declared missing in action…presumably dead."_

These were probably the only words that never got easier to say – even though, when Tsunade really thought about it, it was the same basic formula every time. The name was different; the location of the mission was different, and the status was different; there was either _declared_ _missing in action, presumably dead; imprisoned; _or _killed in the line of duty._

This sentence or a close variation thereof was probably uttered in the village to the disbelieving family, teammates, or significant other of an unfortunate shinobi at least once every three weeks. Konoha had a special task force appointed to give news of this nature, which was, of course, inevitable. They were all special jounin, chosen specifically for their gentler, rather more compassionate and sensitive manner. They had offered (the look in their leader's face, as she looked into the Hokage's reddened eyes, had been softly understanding, begging her to take the easy way out, for her own sake) but Tsunade had wanted – _needed _– to do it herself, and she had sent the team away with a curt dismissal.

Shizune had questioned the wisdom of her decision at the time, claiming it was a masochistic thing to do, but Tsunade had flatly refused to listen. It was her duty. The Harunos were probably already sick with worry because Sakura was now, as far as they were concerned, two days late, without explanation. She couldn't put it off any longer. And she owed it to them…and to Sakura herself.

Now, though, as she listened to the broken sounds coming out of Sayuri Haruno as she folded forward as if her bones had turned into liquid, burying her face in her hands as she tried to stifle her sobs, and saw the look on Sakura's father's face (he stayed as still as a rock, staring at her blankly and reaching out to take his wife's hand in a white-knuckled grip), Tsunade realized that Shizune had been right. Their pain, raw and all too tangible, brought back the waves of grief she had felt, and multiplied them a thousand times over.

She remembered meeting Sayuri and Satoshi Haruno a couple of times before, in happier moments; most recently, when Sakura was promoted to chunin. While her mother had been embracing Sakura, Satoshi had quietly thanked her for taking Sakura as an apprentice, saying that he'd never seen his daughter happier than she had been in the past months, learning new skills and blossoming under her tutelage. And there were other memories, too. She'd only met the Harunos twice, but Sakura had talked about them often. She knew that mild-mannered, gentle Satoshi had dreamed of being a shinobi, but doing the taxes for the majority of Konoha's active-duty forces was as close as he had ever come to the lifestyle he had dreamed of. She knew that Sayuri's father had been in ANBU and served under the Third Hokage. He had died on a mission when she was fifteen, and because of that, she had never wanted Sakura to be a kunoichi. She knew that Sayuri and Sakura fought about it several times – real screaming matches that, to Sakura's frustration, always seemed to end with her mother in tears, telling her that she wanted her only child to live long enough to have children of her own and see them grow to adulthood.

And, perhaps because of that, she knew that no matter how polite Sayuri had always been to her, the sentiment never quite reached her eyes. There was something wary there. Guarded. Despite her husband and daughter's sentiments, she had never trusted Tsunade. No matter how much Sakura praised her for being the best teacher she could have ever dreamed of, she had the feeling that Sayuri always had the subtle, insidious fear that it would be Tsunade, the Godaime Hokage, who would assign Sakura to the one fateful mission that may prove too much for her.

Perversely enough, Tsunade wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. After all, she had been right.

But those thoughts were too much to bear right now, and Tsunade shut her eyes tightly, trying to ignore the way they burned. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, too pained to phrase the words better; knowing they weren't enough, could _never _be enough, and hating herself for it. "Truly. I am _so _sorry."

In her head, she kept repeating it, to Sakura's parents and to Sakura herself. From where she sat, she could see a framed photograph mounted on the mantelpiece, of a younger Sakura with her arms around her parents, smiling widely at the camera. There were similar photos on the wall, as well as several framed certificates of accomplishment, that made the knife twist even deeper into Tsunade's ribs. It couldn't have been clearer how deeply they loved and adored their only child…

Sayuri rose unsteadily and excused herself, her voice barely audible, and Tsunade caught a glimpse of her contorted, tear-stricken face as she fled the room. A few moments later, she heard a door slam, and it was all the Hokage could do not to wince at her pain. She couldn't help but wonder, with yet another sharp stab of guilt, whether Sakura's mother actually did her, and as irrational as it was, she wanted to go to her, and assure her that she had never dreamed that this would happen, and that she would give anything in the world to take it back and assign somebody else to this mission instead—

With difficulty, Tsunade tore her eyes away from the hallway and returned her attention to Sakura's father. In contrast to his wife, he remained quiet and nearly motionless, shoulders rigid and hands clasped in his lap. He looked as if he had aged twenty years in the past five minutes.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "Did she succeed in her mission?" he asked slowly, the expression in his eyes unreadable.

Tsunade inclined her head. "Yes. The information that she managed to return to us, before…was absolutely invaluable."

Satoshi stood up, nodding to himself, and as he escorted her to the door, Tsunade could see that his hands were beginning to tremble minutely. "Good," he said softly, almost to himself, as he opened the door for her, and she could hear that his voice was on the verge of breaking. "That is all that she would have wanted. Thank you, Tsunade-sama."

Tsunade murmured an automatic, polite response as the door closed behind her, leaving her out in the rain. She hardly registered the heavy gray skies and slowly increasing drizzle as she stared at the red brick exterior of the small house without quite seeing it. Inside was Sakura's empty bedroom, the door closed and everything just as she had left it – and two people, whose world she knew she had just irrevocably shattered.

She could have used a transportation technique, but the Hokage trudged through the empty streets toward Hokage Tower on foot. She had told Kakashi earlier, and right about now, Kakashi must be telling Naruto. She hadn't been able to bring herself to do it – she knew that informing Sakura's parents would be too emotionally wearying in itself. Undoubtedly Naruto would burst into her office within the hour, distraught beyond belief, in denial, and demanding an explanation, and she had to prepare herself to face that. She had been spared the task of telling Ino, at least – Shizune had done that earlier in the morning, and spent a good two hours comforting the sobbing girl.

The memory made her mouth twist in sorrow, and Tsunade gave up, lifting her hands to form the requisite seals, and in the next instant, she was in the warm, dry comfort of her office, dripping all over the carpet as she made her way to her desk and collapsed in her chair. From here, she could see the glint of the sake bottles in her half-open bottom drawer, and her hand practically ached to reach toward them; toward the bittersweet amber liquid that would give her everything that she needed right now…

Rationally speaking, she knew that it was unwise to get drunk at the moment. It was a weekday, first of all. Lots of things needed to get done today – first and foremost, she needed to begin taking action against Cloud, and there were mission rosters to be drawn up as well.

There was no real resolve behind the thought, though, and Tsunade leaned forward, burying her head in her hands much as Sakura's mother had done. She couldn't stop thinking about Sakura's parents – of the fact that their little girl would never walk through the doors of their house again, cheerfully announcing that she was back from another successful mission. Of the fact that Sayuri's worst fears had been realized, and they would never see her get married and have children of her own. With that came the thought that the next morning would come and Sakura wouldn't enter her office as she had been doing for the past two and a half years (a spring in her step, despite the fact that it was so early) and ask what her duties for the day were going to be. She would never again pull a face at being informed that the hospital was short on nurses and she would have to pick up a couple of shifts, or curl up in the corner of the office, studying volumes of medical textbooks and studiously taking pages and pages of notes; only to make her presence known by clearing her throat loudly whenever Tsunade looked like she was thinking about reaching for her sake drawer between particularly intimidating stacks of paperwork.

The thought made her head ache anew, and all the breath left Tsunade's body in a long, tortured sigh. The wave of renewed despair made her throat tighten and close over, and she shut her eyes briefly, trying to keep control of herself. She was the Hokage, damn it; she had responsibilities; she couldn't let herself fall to pieces like this…

_Yes, _part of her thought, calmly and sadly and just as rationally as before – the same part that directed her hand to reach for the sake drawer until she felt the comforting, solid weight of the bottle in her hands – _but after all, you loved her too. _

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_Lightning_

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* * *

_The sunrise was muted and inglorious, and Itachi watched it with no sense of the admiration and appreciation he usually felt at the dawning of a new day, as he paced back and forth through the length of the kitchen, taking small sips from his cup of tea as he did so. The heavily overcast sky didn't bode well for his and Kisame's plans. As a direct result of Konoha's enhanced security and stringent protection of Naruto, the Kyuubi's host, Madara had ordered that he and Kisame shift their attention to a different host for now; an easier target. Roshi, the elderly demon host of the Four-Tailed Monkey. The man was currently in the process of traveling the world, and he and Kisame were responsible for tracking him down and returning him to the Akatsuki headquarters – it was a distasteful task, of course, but speaking objectively, he had to admit that it was more acceptable than the prospect of continuing the hunt for Naruto.

The intense quiet of the small house was suddenly broken, and Itachi stopped pacing, his brow creasing a minute amount as he glanced up at the ceiling, which was creaking alarmingly. The quick, uncommonly heavy footfalls were Kisame's, of course, but it sounded like his partner was moving even faster than usual, taking the steps four at a time, and Itachi wondered what could be so urgent. Surely Kisame wasn't _that _eager to mend the tears in his cloak.

At that exact moment, Kisame burst into the kitchen, looking somewhat frantic, and Itachi raised an eyebrow, nonplussed. "Is there a problem, Kisame?"

"You could say that," his partner replied tersely, and his tone made Itachi's shoulders tense up. "It's…the girl. She's awake, but I think there's something wrong."

It was odd, how one sentence could elicit such a quick physiological reaction. His heart began to race, and Itachi narrowed his eyes, setting the cup of tea down on the counter. "What is it?" he asked, with a calmness that he didn't quite feel, as he began to mentally catalogue all of the healing techniques he knew, in case something had gone wrong. "Is she all right?"

"She is," Kisame hastened to assure him, before he frowned again. "Or…she isn't. I'm not quite sure." He continued hurriedly, seeing that his partner didn't appreciate the ambiguity. "Look, I walked into her room looking for the red thread that you left in there while you were sewing her vest up, and when I turned around to leave, she was just sitting up in bed and staringat me, all confused."

Itachi nodded in acknowledgement, watching him intently, and Kisame continued. "I stayed still because her hands were under the blankets and I didn't know whether she was getting ready to spring a medical ninjutsu on me, because I could practically see the wheels in her mind turning as she put it together." He took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably as he sank down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "Well, at least, I _thought _she did. But she didn't make a move, to talk or summon any chakra, and she just kept looking at me, and it was like she was getting more confused by the second, and that threw me off as well."

Kisame stopped again, staring at his partner as if willing him to grasp the seriousness of the situation, and when he finally spoke, it was in a much lower voice than usual. "Then she finally asked me who I _was_, Itachi – as polite as if we were at afternoon tea or something!" Kisame gestured, frustrated, at his Akatsuki cloak, ignoring the way Itachi's grip on the delicate porcelain cup of tea was slowly tightening. "She must have heard of us – we're wearing the cloaks, even – but the kid didn't seem to have any idea who I was, and where she was. There's something up with her. And unless she's a world-class actress in her spare time, she's not faking being oblivious to lure us into a trap so she can attack and take us unaware, either."

Itachi closed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by the implications of the information his partner had just disclosed. There was a steadily sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he remained as controlled as always as he tried to evaluate the situation. "Well?" he asked, finally, attempting to control his speculation. He could not make any further judgments until he knew this – every step that would have to be taken from this point forward would depend on what explanation Kisame had given Sakura. "What did you say?"

Kisame blinked. "What do you mean?"

"What did you say when Sakura asked you who you were?"

Kisame snorted humorlessly, before grabbing the other cup of tea and downing it in one gulp. "I had no idea what to do – I hadn't expected that, and of course I wasn't going to tell her the truth, because that probably wasn't going to go over well…"

"True," Itachi agreed almost absentmindedly, taking another fortifying sip of tea in the hopes that it would help the dull ache that had begun pounding away behind his temples. "What did you come up with?"

Kisame actually fidgeted a little, moving his empty cup back and forth on the table. "You know I'm not as creative as you," he hedged, sounding both sheepish and reluctant at the same time. "I just…the only thing I could think of…I modified the original story we agreed on a little bit. I told her that you and I were members of a shinobi organization, and that she was the third member of our team – our medic. And that she had been hurt on our latest mission and that was why she was fuzzy on the details."

The last two sentences came out very fast, and it took Itachi several moments to comprehend what exactly Kisame had said. First came denial, that no, his partner couldn'thave said what he thought he did, and then came shock, and he lowered his cup of tea with suddenly nerveless fingers. "…What?"

Kisame winced at the subtle inflection in tone, before pushing his chair back from the table and raising his hands defensively. "Look, Itachi, what did you expect? I had no idea that the kid would wake up with some kind of freak memory loss! It was the first thing that came to mind!"

He stopped, obviously expecting an assent from his partner, but when nothing came – when Itachi just remained silent, not quite meeting his gaze – Kisame's eyes narrowed and he lowered his voice accusingly. All of the troubled, preoccupied looks that he had seen Itachi giving the girl while he had been healing her suddenly added up. "Did _you _know this would happen?"

"It was a vague concern of mine, yes," Itachi admitted reluctantly. "In my time in ANBU, one of my teammates sustained similar head trauma and he developed amnesia afterwards, so we had to abort the mission and return him to Konoha for rehabilitation." He frowned, in response to the outraged expression on Kisame's face. "I had hoped that that wouldn't be the case with Sakura. Her trauma appeared lesser, after all, and I assumed that, as she had used her chakra to heal her stab wound even while unconscious, her chakra may have similarly worked to repair the head injury. The chance of a similar outcome was small enough that I did not consider it imperative to prepare you for the possibility."

Kisame just gave him a dirty look. "Thanks for warning me, Uchiha. You have no right to complain about my alibi now. If you'd let me know in advance, I may have come up with something better."

All the breath left Itachi's body in a long sigh as he massaged his temples wearily, just now beginning to comprehend the vast array of complications this situation posed. He had not planned for this. He had no idea how to deal with this. "Where is Sakura, in any case?"

"She decided to go freshen up, or something," Kisame replied, shrugging one shoulder, before getting up from the table. "Just so you know, she's going to come downstairs after that, and I, uh, kind of told her that you would explain everything in detail."

"…Thank you so much, Kisame. My gratitude knows no bounds."

Kisame flinched – he could count on one hand the number of times in eight years prior to this that his perpetually even-tempered, polite, well-mannered partner grew vexed enough to allow the barest hints of sarcasm to creep into his tone – and hastily retreated from the kitchen, muttering something about collecting intelligence.

Itachi watched him go, displeased, and he propped his head up in one of his hands, staring at the light, gentle snowfall outside of the window without really seeing it. He sighed tiredly, wrapping his palms around the warm cup of tea, feeling slightly remorseful for his sharp words. Speaking rationally, he knew that he couldn't truly blame Kisame for this. His partner had come up with the best explanation that he could at the moment – but at the same time, he understood that this complication had thrown his best-laid plans hopelessly awry. He had expected, hoped, prepared, and planned for Sakura to wake up, for there to be a brief confrontation and power struggle in which he would play the typical role of antagonistic Akatsuki member, similar to what he had done when he had encountered Kurenai, Gai, and Kakashi, as well as Naruto, Sasuke, and Jiraiya, three years ago. He had done the very same thing just a month ago, when he had intercepted Kakashi, Naruto, and Sakura in Sand. For all that the role was the complete antithesis to his true personality, it was, after all, very familiar – almost second nature. Slipping into it was as easy as pulling his cloak over his shoulders. He would have laid out the terms that he and Kisame had agreed upon: that the two of them had saved Sakura for the sole purpose of using her skills as a medic to his benefit, and if she refused to cooperate, there would be painful consequences for herself and those she cared about.

Of course Sakura would have been angry. She wouldn't have given in easily. She would have raged and fought and struggled against him every step of the way, but in the end, after a few carefully chosen threats to harm people she valued more than her own life, she would have been forced to acquiesce to his terms. After Sakura healed his eyes, he had planned to give her directions back to Konoha, swear her to secrecy through further use of the threats and intimidation that she would expect a member of the Akatsuki to utilize…and then let her return to her village safely, on her own. He and Kisame had orders not to venture anywhere near Konoha for the time being. Even disregarding Madara's orders, for personal reasons, Itachi knew he should not take the chance of venturing even close to his former home. Their security had been increased dramatically in an attempt to protect Naruto, and he couldn't risk being captured by Konoha now, so close to his final confrontation with Sasuke. At this point, at such a critical stage, he had to take the utmost caution.

It had been a flawless, beautifully simple plan, but now, all that was compromised. Itachi blinked down into his blurry reflection in his remaining tea, deep in thought. He admitted much of the responsibility for it, but at the same time, he wished that Kisame had chosen something – _anything – _else to say.

One of his lifelong weaknesses was that he'd always had difficulty deviating from a strictly defined plan. He had always excelled at coming up with strategies and tactics that were airtight, but on the extraordinarily rare occasion when events didn't go according to plan, he found himself at an utter loss. The last time it had happened was when he had received word that Sasuke had defected from Konoha with the intention of joining Orochimaru in Sound. Itachi had sat motionless on his bed for the entire night, in a state of quiet panic. It had taken him two days to recover and even attempt to recalibrate.

Thissituation was almost as troubling. There seemed to be no plausible course of action to take. Sakura's memory had been compromised, potentially severely. She was vulnerable. They could hardly abandon her, but at the same time, he and Kisame could not approach the southernmost region of the Land of Fire, where Konoha was located, for any reason. It was too great a risk. He would never make the mistake of being overconfident; there was always the chance that he could be captured while returning Sakura to the area, and that would ruin everything – every aspect of the plans he had made for his and Sasuke's final confrontation. It would render all of the deception and effort and pain, both on his part and Sasuke's, of the past eight years, useless. The thought of so much wasted effort was utterly abhorrent, and on a purely visceral level, it made Itachi close his eyes, pained.

What was the alternative, though? Proceeding with the initial alibi Kisame had told Sakura?

Itachi exhaled softly, deep in thought. He suspected that at least part of the cause of his unease was because it seemed unethical, somehow, to deceive her in this manner. Even if she did not know it at the moment, Sakura was a Konoha kunoichi. While in her right mind, she would despise him and Kisame on principle – in her eyes, the Akatsuki was the primary threat to her home's security, well-being, and way of life. There would be a more personal level to her hatred, as well; undoubtedly she was aware of their quest to capture and extract the tailed beasts, and the impact that would have on her sole remaining teammate. And not to mention, he had the distinct feeling that Sakura would have had an extra, more potent sort of hatred, reserved for him alone, considering his…history…with Sasuke.

Furthermore, even assuming that he _did _decide to operate under the premise that Kisame had introduced…Kisame had led Sakura to believe that she was a part of their team, and he, personally, had absolutely no idea how to deal with the mechanics of that. He was accustomed to portraying a certain role, and how was he supposed to act if Sakura did indeed stay with them? Hostility and intimidation wouldn't do; if Sakura was a 'teammate', there had to be some sense of intimacy and familiarity…

Itachi shied away from the thought, considering the alternative once more. It was much more…honorable. Returning Sakura to Konoha as soon as possible, for the kind of rehabilitation his ANBU teammate had received, was unquestionably the right course of action to take. He could do it in a second – it would be as easy as walking upstairs, rendering her unconscious with his bloodline limit, and transporting her back, after some hours' travel and a slight strain on his chakra reserves.

But something – a lingering, uncomfortable question – made him hesitate. To return Sakura, he would have to enter Konoha directly. Was it – the chance, however small, that he could be captured in the process – a risk work taking? The thought made Itachi uncomfortable, but as a shinobi, he'd often had to make these judgment calls. As much as he hated to prioritize when it came to such crucial matters, in the larger scheme of things, he had to admit that the flawless execution of his plan to its inevitable conclusion was more important than this…than one lost, injured had never accounted for something like this in his plans. As unfortunate as it was, she was just an externality. Perhaps it was a cold assessment; ruthless, even, but she was alive. He had at least been able to give her that. He couldn't ensure everything.

It was simply the price to be paid, and the thought left such a bitter taste in Itachi's mouth that even the too-sweet last sip of tea couldn't wash it away.

* * *

The scalding hot water soothed the ache in her muscles and her head, and it was only the thought that there were two other people in this house that probably also needed it that motivated Sakura to finally, reluctantly shut it off. The heat had thoroughly pervaded the small bathroom, completely misting over the mirror, and she only shivered a little as she stepped out of the shower a little unsteadily, wrapping the nearest towel around herself. It was thick and fell to her knees, and she made her way to the mirror and wiped her hand across it several times until the fog cleared.

Sakura stared at her perplexed-looking reflection for a few moments, taking it in for the second time in half an hour, and at least this time, it felt like she wasn't looking at a total stranger. She was maybe a little on the shorter side. She seemed to be in good physical shape. She had green eyes – she watched herself blink twice – and shoulder-length pink hair. She touched her hair, smoothing her fingers through it (it was shiny and soft to the touch, and a tiny, frivolous part of her was pleased), and then gazed down at her hands. They were small; her fingers and palms were calloused, and her nails were cut into short, neat ovals and coated with a hard, clear, shiny protective polish. They were mundane details, yes, but observing them was comforting, somehow, regardless of the fact that it was somewhat disturbing that she was reacquainting herself with her own body.

The thought still turned her stomach, and she got dressed slowly, staring into the mirror some more, as if that would help aid her recollection. It offered no further insight except for the extraordinary intentness of her frown, and Sakura made a face at her reflection. It was definitely an odd observation to make so randomly, but her forehead was rather large.

Now that that was done, Sakura's attention drifted to the black bag leaning against the opposite wall, and she gazed at it, hesitating briefly before tentatively stepping forward. Even though it didn't look familiar to her, she assumed it must be hers, and who knew – maybe whatever was in there might ring some bells; trigger some of the memory that she was…lacking…at the moment. The thought – this entire stupid, screwed-up _situation _– was so disturbing that it made her want to laugh and cry at the same time, but she dumped the contents of the bag out over the counter anyway, staring curiously at the contents that spilled out. There were changes of clothes; duplicates and narrow variations of the red vest and black pants she had been wearing when she woke up, as well as a pair of black shorts and a short tan skirt. There were also basic necessities like socks and several sets of underwear, and two long, tightly-wound rolls of bandages – and something that made her frown. Four long, sharp dagger-like things. Useful, but none of this was what she had really been looking for.

The last things to fall out, with several heavy, solid-sounding clunks, were four thick, old-looking tomes, and several scrolls, tightly rolled up and secured with ribbons. Sakura turned the books over hastily, staring at the titles through narrowed eyes. What she found here would determine the course of action she ended up taking…

_Common Applications of Medical Chakra. Special Edition – Medical Chakra: Field Applications. Atlas of Human Anatomy, Third Edition. Pathologic Basis of Disease. _When she flipped each book open, rifling through the yellowed pages, she saw that the endless rows of small black text were meticulously highlighted in several colors, and almost every single page's margins were entirely taken up with rows upon rows of small, neat handwriting and notes and questions. Sakura touched the writing absentmindedly, realizing with a strange jolt that it was her own, and that she had thought it important to remember that poison extracted from the glands of the spotted yellow frogs native to Mist could be characterized by the unique sour odor and purplish color. The scrolls, when she snapped them open, were more abridged, but covered the same sort of information – shorter guides on how to use medical chakra in a variety of different, life-or-death situations.

All the breath left Sakura's body in a long sigh as she looked away from the scrolls, reaching up and raking her fingers through her hair, trying to gather her thoughts.

This was the proof she had been searching for. Proof that – that the tall, blue-skinned shark man who had barged into her room – Kisame Hoshigaki, she reminded herself – hadn't been…well, raving. When he had claimed that she was actually affiliated with him and his partner, Itachi Uchiha, and that she was the third member and medic of their shinobi team, she had been skeptical of his story, to say the least. She had pressed him for details, asking why she couldn't remember any of what he claimed, but he had just mumbled that she had gotten hurt and his partner Itachi would explain things in more detail when she came downstairs. His explanation hadn't been reassuring at all, and part of her had really freaked out at the thought that theoretically, he and his so-called partner _could _in fact be serial killers who had kidnapped her and used some shinobi technique or another to wipe out her memory in order to make her easier prey. But Sakura had slipped into the bathroom anyway, figuring that if nothing came to her and she wasn't able to find any confirmation whatsoever regarding his story, she would just break out of the room through the balcony door and head somewhere, anywhere, else.

But considering the equipment that she'd been carrying with her, and the fact that parts of the texts she was glancing over actually seemed somewhat familiar, it looked like Kisame's story had been corroborated. He seemed to have been telling the truth after all, which meant…

Sakura twisted around, looking at herself in the mirror again, somewhat apprehensively. She didn't see any physical indication that she had gotten hurt badly enough for it to have an impact on her memory, even though she knew that in order for it to do so, it must have been a severe injury. There was just a mark on the back of her arm – the bruise was dark and vaguely hand-shaped, and she couldn't help but wonder whether that was from whatever fight she had been in that had left her so badly injured.

Carefully, tentatively, with one glance back at the medical textbooks scattered over the counter, Sakura lifted her right hand and stared at it, concentrating intently. She knew how to do this, after all, even if she didn't exactly remember the mechanics of it. The skill itself was familiar to her. And slowly, after several more moments of rigid control and thought, the energy flared to her palm with surprising strength. Instinct told her what to do next, and Sakura cautiously moved her chakra-coated left hand over the bruise. It erased the mark and the residual soreness in the blink of an eye, and she stared down at her hand, unsettled by the experience. Though she couldn't consciously remember doing anything like that before, it was easy, really – second nature, like breathing.

Experimentally, she reached up to the back of her neck, which was still stiff after being asleep for who knew how long, and repeated the process there as well as over her forehead. The pain in both areas eased with similar quickness, and it was that, more than anything else – well, along with the presence of the volumes in her bag – that forced her to believe that…Kisame…had been telling the truth after all.

Perhaps his odd behavior at first was due to the fact that he had probably just been initially thrown off by the fact that she didn't recognize him. That must have been worrying.

But as Sakura thought about it more, a strange feeling caused her chest to tighten. Something else that she had overlooked…Kisame's partner's name, Itachi Uchiha – like her books, and what she had just done with the chakra – was oddly familiar to her. The last name, specifically, held a particular, heavy significance. She knew_, _with a rather unshakable certainty, that she had heard that somewhere before. And where else would she have heard it? How else could her subconscious mind have judged it important enough that, even after all this, she still clung onto it?

Slightly emboldened by her realization, Sakura slipped out of the bathroom and then out of her room, glancing around the hallway inquisitively. The door next to hers was open, revealing something that looked like a study, but the other door, across the hallway, was closed. Maybe another bedroom? Stifling the urge to explore, she proceeded toward the staircase slowly. She felt uneasy in a way that couldn't be explained away by her physical discomfort any longer, even though she knew it was probably irrational to do so. Technically, after all, she _knew _these people already – even though when she had seen Kisame, it had felt like she was meeting him for the first time…

The implications of that thought frightened her; actually sending chills down her spine, and Sakura stopped dead on the staircase as she realized why exactly she felt so disconcerted. All she knew about herself beyond her physical appearance, really, was that she was Sakura, and she was a medic who used chakra to heal wounds – and that was a terrifyingly small amount. A veritable torrent of questions rushed forth within her mind all at once: Did the fact that she used medical chakra and traveled with two shinobi mean that she was a shinobi, too? She had noticed that she didn't have a metal forehead protector like Kisame had. Not to mention, where did she come from? Presumably the same place as Kisame and Itachi, because she had to have met and joined up with them somewhere, but where was that? Did she have parents who knew that she was working with them? (She couldn't imagine that any parents she had would be okay with the idea of working as a medic for two guys, unless this was exclusively a day job or something, in which case she really needed an answer to this question, because she wouldn't want to worry any parents she had by failing to recognize them when she went back home tonight.)

Perhaps most worryingly of all, because it was an even more basic facet of personal information…she had a vague idea that she was sixteen, but she had no real idea when her birthday was. Springtime, maybe?

Sakura's hand slipped on the banister, and she brought it up to see that it was covered in cold sweat. She was shivering now, and she made her way down the rest of the staircase quickly. Her stomach was twisting in on itself in hunger, even though she doubted her ability to keep any food down. The foremost priority on her mind was to find this Itachi person and get the answers that she had been promised.

The staircase spat her out into a rather bright kitchen, and Sakura blinked, momentarily disoriented. It looked utterly unfamiliar, as she had expected, but the thing that really captured her attention was the man standing near the kitchen sink, drinking a cup of something that smelled like tea and looking very preoccupied. He wore black pants tucked into shin-high dark boots and a matching long-sleeved shirt, and the same strange black-and-red cloak that Kisame had worn was neatly arranged over the back of one of the nearby chairs. Offhandedly, Sakura added another question to her list: If that was her team's uniform or something, why didn't she seem to have one?

To her alarm, the man – Itachi, she realized belatedly – seemed to notice her then, and he put his cup of tea down on the counter and turned to face her more fully. For some reason, he looked almost as uncomfortable as she felt, as he inclined his head awkwardly. "Sakura."

Sakura nodded back self-consciously. "Hi." The silence felt too abrupt, and she tried again. "…Itachi?"

Itachi blinked once. "Hello, Sakura," he replied uncertainly, before gesturing toward the kitchen table. "Please sit down. You must be hungry, and I can arrange for breakfast."

"Oh," she said, taken aback, and she took a step toward him, politeness overriding her initial plan to immediately demand answers to her barrage of questions. "I can help—"

"That will not be necessary."

The flat refusal may have sounded rude coming from anybody else, but Itachi's tone was unmistakably polite. It was only a few sentences in, but something about his manner didn't intimidate her like Kisame had, and Sakura nodded somewhat shyly. She sat down where Itachi had indicated, watching him move around the kitchen. Within a matter of a few minutes, he had cracked two eggs into a pan, sliced strawberries, pulled out a can of whipped cream and a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator, and then promptly busied himself with making waffles while the eggs cooked.

Itachi moved with such quick efficiency that it made her head spin, so fast that it didn't leave her time to ask him anything that she had wanted to without completely interrupting, and Sakura couldn't help but notice that such speed and grace seemed somehow out of place and restrained in such a domestic setting. He was rather handsome, she noted absentmindedly; tall, with unusually long, sleek black hair that fell to the middle of his back and was tied back in a low ponytail. He was a little on the thinner side for someone that height, but the definition of the leanly toned muscles of his shoulders, arms, and chest – his whole body, really – was strong and healthy. His facial features were what she found most vaguely familiar, though. Dark gray eyes, high cheekbones, thin lips…

Sakura felt herself blushing, and she tore her gaze away from him, embarrassed beyond belief. She could hardly believe that she had just been unprofessional enough to gawk at a teammate like that, and for the next few minutes, she studiously observed the tiles on the kitchen floor, fervently hoping that he had been too busy with the waffles to notice.

Her study was only broken when Itachi carefully set a large plate of scrambled eggs next to a stack of waffles covered with whipped cream and topped with strawberries in front of her, followed by a tall glass of orange juice. Sakura stared at the spread, amazed, before glancing up at him. "Thank you," she said, both surprised and touched by his consideration.

Itachi only nodded, taking the seat in front of her, and Sakura began to eat. Any idea she had of interrogating him immediately disappeared after the first bite, when she found that she was so ravenous that she wouldn't be able to pause between bites long enough to utter even two sentences. She'd let him take the lead on filling her in while she focused on refueling. It took a concerted effort to remain decorous and not wolf the food down at top speed, but after she had gotten through all of her scrambled eggs and one waffle at a respectable pace and he stillhadn't shown any sign of speaking to her (he seemed unusually quiet, which she found a little disconcerting), she found that she had to ask. The worst of her hunger had been dealt with, and food was all well and good, but she wouldn't be even close to at ease until she had some answers.

"So," Sakura said, at last, drawing the word out a few seconds too long, and underneath the table, Itachi felt his fingers twitch out of sheer nerves. Her eyes had been lingering on his forehead protector for a little while now, but there hadn't been even a glimmer of recognition of the familiar symbol in her gaze, only curiosity. He could see that she was struggling with the words, but she managed to get the sentence out nevertheless. "What exactly…happened? Kisame said you would explain everything."

She looked at him with a rather trusting, open expression, as she bit into a slice of strawberry, and Itachi had to force himself to meet her eyes. "As Kisame likely informed you, you are our teammate and medic," he told her evenly, his voice betraying absolutely no emotion. The fact that the past several years of his life had been a complex deceit did not make the act of lying to an innocent girl any easier. "We had an altercation with a team of Cloud shinobi three days ago, and during the fight, you were hit by a scything wind jutsu. The impact knocked you twenty feet backwards, into the side of a cliff, and the force of the collision of your head with the rock was likely what caused your memory impairment." He paused, taking in the stunned expression on her face. "…I do apologize for my negligence. I should have looked out for you better."

Sakura just shook her head, dazed at his matter-of-fact explanation. "It's okay," she mumbled vaguely. Her mind raced as she tried to imagine how the sequence of events had played out. The situation sounded completely plausible; it explained the soreness she had felt when waking up, and the blunt force impact of her head against the rock did seem like it was enough to sustain a head trauma that could lead to this particular side effect. All the questions she'd had earlier were returning, and it took her a few moments to even try to get her mind organized. "I have a few questions, though…"

She hesitated, and Itachi inclined his head, carefully masking his trepidation. "Please continue."

Sakura needed no further prompting, and everything that she had been barely managing to hold back for the past fifteen minutes came out all at once. "What kind of shinobi are we? I mean, is it an organized group, or just you and Kisame? I noticed that you and Kisame wear the same cloak, and I was wondering whether I had one and if I'm even a shinobi, or just a medic, because I don't have a forehead protector like the two of you do." The consciousness of exactly how much she didn't remember returned again, and Sakura closed her eyes, frustrated, suppressing the panicky feeling that threatened to overwhelm her, as she tried to sort out the questions she found most immediately pressing. "And – do you know whether I have family? Where I came from? How long have I been with you and Kisame? I don't even know where I was trained as a medic…"

Faced with her onslaught of questions, Itachi took a deep breath, trying to hold onto his composure. He didn't know which was harder to deal with – Sakura's distress, or the fact that she so clearly trusted and looked to himto give her the answers to the questions that were weighing so heavily on her mind.

He kept his voice even, calm, reassuring, so that it would set her at ease. He told her that he and Kisame were Rain shinobi, but omitted the name of the organization just in case it would trigger some sort of unpleasant memory – the headquarters of the Akatsuki were based in Rain, in any case. He told her that no, she did not have the cloak or a forehead protector because she had not undergone the same training that they had, and that she had learned her skills from an older medic-nin in the village. He told her that she had been with them for a little over one year, and he had carefully avoided answering the question about whether she had family.

Sakura drank his words in with wide eyes, staring at him with her hands clasped tightly around her glass of orange juice. It couldn't have been clearer that she believed every word that he said, and it made him a little sick.

Finally, she nodded, accepting the information and carefully filing it away in her head, and when Sakura glanced up from her orange juice, she found Itachi staring at her with a peculiar expression on his face. The instant her eyes met his, he immediately looked away, and Sakura did the same thing, hoping that she wasn't blushing again. She remembered his apology for not looking out for her better, and was uncomfortably aware of the fact that he probably felt sorry for her. This certainly wasn't a…_desirable _situation to be in, for either of them.

After a few moments of struggling with herself, trying to decide whether to do it or not, Sakura finally reached out, placing her hand on top of Itachi's and brushing her fingers against his. His hand tensed up under her touch, curling into a fist, and it looked like he was barely restraining himself from pulling away. "It's okay," she said, trying to sound as considerate and sensitive as possible without making him uncomfortable. "I mean…it was an accident. Please don't feel bad about what happened. I don't blame you at all."

Itachi looked like he was going to say something, but he remained silent and just inclined his head again. He seemed at a loss for words, and Sakura bit her lip, trying not to fidget in her chair. She thought that perhaps this was the worst thing about this predicament – she'd assume that she got along well with Itachi and Kisame, because they were her teammates. For all she knew, she and Itachi could have been the best of friends before this, but now the dynamic was ruined because she couldn't remember ever interacting with him before.

These were difficult circumstances for all of them, and in an attempt to cover it up, Sakura cleared her throat deliberately. "So, what are we going to do now?" she asked tentatively. "I mean…we must go on missions and stuff, right?"

Itachi watched her for a moment, trying to decide how to explain what he and Kisame had been sent to Lightning to do without going into too much detail. "We are searching for a particular target," he responded, at length. "He is wanted by our leader because he possesses something that the Leader finds quite valuable and desirable. His name is Roshi, and he is a retired shinobi who is currently traveling the world. It happens to be in his interests to avoid detection, so finding him will be a particularly difficult task – we have some intelligence regarding the path he has traveled since leaving his village, but our trail went cold shortly after we entered this part of the country, and Kisame is currently gathering some newer intelligence. Roshi has proved to be extremely elusive in the past, so it is likely that we will be doing a great deal of traveling, although we will always return to this home, which is our base, of sorts."

Sakura frowned, considering his words. It certainly sounded complex, attempting to track down somebody who was that hard to follow, and though she knew that she must have done this before with them, she couldn't help but wish that she had memories and experience to draw from. "I hope I can be of help to you," she said uncertainly.

"I am sure that you will be," Itachi reassured her, and though she sent him a small, grateful smile, he couldn't bring himself to return it properly. It seemed surreal, somehow, that this girl – a Konoha kunoichi through and through; who had glared at him with such hatred and fear last time they had seen each other – was now agreeing to work with the Akatsuki (after Sakura had failed to respond to the stimulus of Konoha's symbol on his forehead protector, he was now fairly certain that even if he had told her the name of his organization, it would not have triggered anything) out of her own free will. He felt fairly certain that in her right mind, she likely would have asked to be executed before being a part of something like this…

Itachi forced himself to dismiss the thoughts as he stood up. "Kisame is currently collecting new intelligence and acquiring more supplies, and I plan to review our paperwork and notes regarding the dates and locations of Roshi's latest sightings in an attempt to estimate the general area of his current location," he told her, before gesturing to the area of the house outside the kitchen. "You may reacquaint yourself with the house, if you so choose. There is a library downstairs, and…"

"No, no," Sakura interrupted, standing up and depositing her dishes in the sink. "I'll help you go over your notes. I'm sure that we'll come up with an idea quicker that way."

Well, he certainly hadn't been expecting _that. _Itachi blinked, taken by surprise for a split second, and his first instinct was to decline. Interacting with her up until this point had been enough of a strain, not that her company was unpleasant in the least, but Sakura was watching him expectantly, and the words died in his throat. There was no way to turn her down politely at this point, and he finally just nodded, turning around and making his way into the living room, quite aware of her falling in to step at his side.

He had left his notes and several detailed maps of the region spread out on the leather sofa earlier in the morning, and Itachi took a seat amidst them, beginning to arrange them in chronological order. His focus returned entirely to the dates and locations that skimmed through his finger, and then—

He froze, his entire body stilling for a second as Sakura sat down close next to him as if it was the most natural thing in the world, taking one of the maps and looking over his shoulder at the notes. "Okay," she said, her tone brisk and businesslike, as she scanned the documents, her gaze jumping from one note to another. "So according to that, he traveled from Isen, to Kama, to Yaku, within a span of a week – it looks like he was heading straight north, so if he didn't deviate from that path during the week and a half we lost the trail, he could be between Nahari and Motoyama by now, assuming that he's still making the same pace. What do you think?"

When she leaned near him like this, her hip was touching his, and the sides of their legs were touching as well, and this was getting dangerously close to distracting him from the path that Sakura's index finger made as she trailed it along the map. Itachi swallowed over his suddenly dry throat. "It seems to be a valid approximation," he acknowledged, his voice carefully devoid of any emotion. She was surprisingly competent at this – he hadn't expected it, from a kunoichi who had no history of ever serving as a tracker, but he suspected that her natural intelligence made up for her lack of experience. "However, Kisame suspects that he may have gone west after Yaku, as he finds it easier to hide in the mountains…"

Sakura frowned contemplatively, returning to her perusal of the map. "It looks like there's a couple of towns on the way up the mountains, so…"

She trailed off, thinking to herself, and Itachi tried to resume the study of his materials. To his intense displeasure, though, he recognized that he couldn't seem to regain his typical ironclad focus. He felt it every time Sakura adjusted her position even a tiny amount, and to make matters even more uncomfortable, sometimes when she leaned over to read his notes, her bare arm brushed his as well. It was highly distracting.

For the past eight years, since his forced departure from Konoha, the only woman that he had interacted with on a regular basis was Konan. Even that had been somewhat difficult at first, but he had grown comfortable with her over the years that had passed. Being so close to another person – a female who was for all intents and purposes a veritable stranger, even though she believed otherwise – was simply very…unusual. The strangeness was only compounded by the fact that Sakura seemed so comfortable with him, not on her guard or ill at ease at all. Most people, even civilians he and Kisame had the most fleeting encounters with, never reacted like this.

Common sense and logic told Itachi to move so that he could regain his concentration. It was that simple. All he had to do was put down this particular set of notes for her to peruse, go to the kitchen under the pretense of retrieving something or another, and then upon entering the living room again, casually take a different seat while looking over another map. The problem would be solved.

But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do so – and there was no need to resort to such juvenile and immature avoidance tactics, after all, Itachi told himself, as he stared at a map of the western Land of Lightning without taking in a single detail. This may have been a slight deviation from the norm, but all that he needed was a stricter sense of discipline. Though he wasn't given to excessive pride at all, the thought of undertaking such evasive maneuvers to avoid proximity to a mere sixteen-year-old girl was infuriating.

…He was fairly sure that the subtly flowery scent that he kept inhaling was her shampoo.

To Itachi's eternal mortification, this time, Sakura glanced up from her map just in time to catch him looking at her. She gave him a slightly nervous smile, edging away an inch and obviously trying to be subtle about it, and he hastily and immediately redirected his complete attention to his work, feeling rather warm around the collar – and newly apprehensive (for _very_ different reasons than he had experienced earlier) about having a teammate like this.

* * *

_to be continued_

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As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	5. The Change

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was sweet enough to leave a review. :)_

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_Chapter Five: The Change_

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Contrary to popular belief, Kisame was not an unintelligent man. He knew, of course, that he didn't possess even one half of the brilliance his partner had – but that wasn't saying much, as Itachi was a prodigy unlike anything most people had ever seen before, and the best shinobi of his generation, by far. On his own, though, he was certainly capable, and far above average than the typical shinobi. If it hadn't been for his defection from Mist, he could have gone far – perhaps even been a high-ranking tactician in a couple of years. His unusual size and power aside, he wasn't just a mindless, freakishly muscled hit man. Just because he wasn't as outwardly quiet and reserved like Itachi was, and because he wholeheartedly enjoyed and embraced the violent aspects of the shinobi lifestyle, didn't mean that he had less of a thoughtful and contemplative nature.

And over the past three and a half weeks, Kisame had been doing a lot of thinking and analysis – regarding his and Itachi's newest teammate, specifically. He was much less anal retentive about it than Itachi was, but he wasn't a big fan of changes to the routine either. Unfortunately, Sakura'spresence had changed everything – in a very large way. Objectively speaking, he had to admit that there were just a few good things about having her as part of their team. Of course, it was still undeniably strange, considering that her very presence disrupted the unique dynamic between him and Itachi that had existed for so many years, but in all fairness, it wasn't as terrible as he had expected.

He had always disliked Konoha shinobi – with the obvious exception – for a number of reasons. They were overdramatic, whiny, and prone to excessive moralization. They had an irritatingly black and white worldview, where everything that didn't fit in with their rigid moral code was undoubtedly evil and must be vanquished – even though, knowing what he knew about the true circumstances of the Uchiha massacre, they were bloody hypocrites. Not to mention that when it eventually came time to fight, more often than not, many Konoha shinobi would inexplicably stand and jabber away for what felt like hours before even throwing a single jutsu. It was _frustrating. _To make matters worse, Sakura had been on the team of two other people that he'd had a great personal dislike of: that loud, idiotic Naruto Uzumaki, and Itachi's equally brainless and impetuous younger brother.

Considering all of this, Kisame had been surprised at how tolerable he found Sakura. She was a genuinely nice girl, and he supposed this was helped by the fact that she sincerely believed the story he and Itachi had given her. Thanks to her training under the Godaime Hokage, one of the few members of Konoha that he held any respect for, Sakura was a capable shinobi, intelligent, and a good tracker to boot, so she pulled her own weight. She had proven herself rather skilled in subtly extracting information from other people, and her capabilities as a medic had served to be useful as well. And while he normally found qualities like excessive compassion somewhat tedious and misplaced, it was hard to feel that way when Sakura was offering to heal the shoulder he had injured a few months ago, which had never quite recovered the same range of movement it had prior to the injury.

Overall, looking at the larger picture, the kid was an asset, and though it went against his better judgment, Kisame had come to be rather fond of her. She was quite likeable,in her own way. He would never admit it, even to Itachi, but she reminded him just a little bit of his younger sister, who still lived in Mist. They'd had a falling out last time he visited, when he had refused to let her begin training as a shinobi, and she hadn't responded to a single one of his letters since.

Unlike his sister Katsu, though, Sakura had one glaring weakness, and it was this that made her presence on their team grate on his patience considerably. She was _slow. _Positively sloth-like. Kisame was fairly sure that he could travel at double her pace even blindfolded and with the use of only one leg and a quarter of his normal chakra capacity. Sakura's stamina was all right, and her chakra control flawless, but her speed left a lot to be desired. In that aspect, she was nowhere near the caliber that he and Itachi were, and the fact that they had to measure themselves to her fastest pace meant that they were traveling incredibly slowly compared to their usual standards. They were practically plodding along – it was no wonder they hadn't been able to catch up to the Four-Tails' host yet.

This chafed on his nerves, but there was no choice but to accept it. The positives outweighed the negative, and the benefits that Sakura had bought them made the situation somewhat more palatable than it would have been otherwise.

There was one other thing, though…

Kisame directed a subtle glance at his partner out of the corner of his eye. While hehad become more or less completely accustomed to the girl's presence, he sensed that Sakura still made Itachi feel a little uncomfortable. Off-balance, somehow. The feeling was subtle yet palpable, and downright strange, considering Itachi's unshakably calm, stoic personality. From the beginning, Sakura had always treated Itachi with the exact same gentle companionship she had offered him; doing things like offering to heal his back after he had pulled a muscle while they had been traveling, or roasting his fish for the night while he was off setting concealment genjutsu around the perimeter of their campsite. Little gestures, really, but it was obvious – to his trained eye, at least – that his partner was uncomfortable with them.

Kisame knew that at least part of it was because Itachi was, as ever, troubled by his conscience, and felt more than a little guilty about lying to Sakura regarding the circumstances in which she had joined them. But he also had a sneaking suspicion that in the end, it also boiled down to the fact that Itachi was just unsettled by and utterly unused to having a girl around, especially one who made such overtures of friendship.

Undoubtedly Katsu would call it 'cute'. For him, though, seeing Itachi dance around Sakura like a skittish colt was just exasperating.

His suspicions were once again confirmed when they reached the outskirts of the village of Nagoya, their designated meeting point for the night. They were still searching for the frustratingly elusive host of the Four-Tails' whereabouts, and they had split up at dawn, with he and Itachi traveling and searching ninety miles westward, and Sakura going ninety miles east. They had agreed to meet at Nagoya because it was close to the outer limits that Sakura had searched, and Kisame could only hope that she'd had better luck at finding any information than they had.

He yawned widely and stretched, wincing at the hunger pangs that he felt. "One of us should go meet Sakura in the village, and the other can stay back and set up camp – there's a stream nearby, and I'm pretty sure I smell fish…"

"I can go," his partner offered, just as Kisame had intended, and almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Itachi realized that his words; his tone, had been perhaps a fraction more eager than the occasion warranted.

As he had expected, Kisame acknowledged the slip by raising an eyebrow, but thankfully, he didn't say anything further. He turned and headed into the forest, raising a hand in a brief, temporary farewell, and Itachi watched until the familiar black-and-red cloak disappeared into the cover of the trees, before finally turning and making his way into the village.

It was a pretty little place, decorated for some sort of festival. Strings of colored lights and lanterns hung from every available surface, and their soft glow added a little warmth to the chilly evening. After several minutes had passed, Itachi could tell that finding Sakura was going to be more difficult than he had expected. The streets were filled with people out for the evening; there were several families sitting inside an open ramen bar, laughing loudly, and young children ran through the streets, often holding balloons or sweets in one hand and a parent's hand in the other. There were even a few couples that he could see – four teenagers on a double date, the boys laughing uproariously and the girls rolling their eyes playfully at one another, and a young woman and a dark-haired man, walking close together. The man held a stick of dango up to her lips, obviously trying to get her to take a bite, while she demurred.

The sudden familiarity of the scene made Itachi's heart twist, and he averted his gaze. This place reminded him of Konoha, and of the last festival he had attended with Shisui, Sasuke, Megumi, and a few of their older and younger cousins, before everything went to hell. It hurt to look around – to remember – but at the same time, it felt nice. It had been so long since he had experienced anything like this, and the tangible happiness and beauty of the atmosphere brought him as much joy as it did heartache. It was a perverse contradiction; he wanted to get away from here as much as he wanted to stay and bask in the lights and the sight and sound of others' happiness.

He caught sight of Sakura at that exact moment. Even through the crowd that separated them, she was a distinctive figure, with her bright hair and dark purple coat. She stood in front of a shrimp tempura stall, conversing earnestly with the owner, an elderly man. Itachi watched from a distance, coming to stand near a dango shop, and ignoring the temptation of the sweet, sugary scent.

He and Kisame had always had a hard time extracting information about people's whereabouts – other shinobi, hosts of tailed beasts, spies, whoever their target happened to be at the moment – from civilians. Unfortunately, no matter how gentle and non-threatening his demeanor (and, well, Kisame at least tried), civilians were often so intimidated by their looks, chakra, slashed forehead protectors, and Akatsuki cloaks, that they were too frightened to volunteer any information. Even when Kisame had to resort to making threats, they revealed the bare minimum before making a quick escape.

Itachi tilted his head to the side a fraction of an inch as he watched the tempura stall's owner gesture north, than east. He narrowed his eyes to no avail, and not for the first time, he regretted the fact that the gradual loss of his eyesight due to use of the Sharingan had also all but eliminated his ability to flawlessly read lips. The man certainly seemed to be disclosing a lot of information, though, and Sakura was nodding, asking questions.

…Sakura, on the other hand, had the opposite effect on people. He had come to notice, from observation of her interactions with various civilians in the towns that they had stopped through, that she was rather personable. Charming, one could call it. Somehow, one smile and casual inquiry from her could elicit more information than Kisame's most brusque, intimidating bark. Perhaps it was her casual clothes and lack of forehead protector, or perhaps it was just because the pink-haired kunoichi seemed so innocent that it somewhat counteracted the massive, nearly tangible depths of powerful chakra reserves that surrounded her.

Her looks couldn't hurt, either, Itachi somewhat guiltily supposed. He knew from experience that it was difficult to look into those bright green eyes and lie.

Finally, Sakura wrapped up her conversation, taking the old man's hands in both of hers and thanking him wholeheartedly, and he nodded, looking – predictably enough – happy to help. Itachi saw her turn away and begin to scan the crowds, her expression quickly becoming thoughtful as she considered whatever it was she had just heard.

To his intense displeasure, he actually felt his heart rate speed up just a little when Sakura's gaze found him, and her face lit up with a smile. Itachi remained still, careful not to betray any unnecessary emotion and inclining his head a fraction of an inch in greeting, as she moved through the crowd quickly, until she came to stand at his side. "Itachi!" she exclaimed happily, linking her arm through his for a brief moment and giving it a quick squeeze. "I didn't think you and Kisame were going to get here so quickly – I hope I didn't keep you waiting, but that man was the last person I asked from this village, and he was the only person who had any information whatsoever to give me…"

Still surprised by her affectionate greeting, Itachi coughed a little awkwardly as they began to walk down the path. "Was there any new intelligence?"

Sakura nodded, stopping for a moment to smile at a little girl and boy who were walking across the street from them, both wearing cartoon fox masks. "Yeah, there was. He told me what disguise Roshi is currently using – he's switched in the last week, which is why we hadn't been getting anywhere until now – and what direction he's headed in. Kisame was right, he's going east, toward and up the mountains, and apparently Roshi also mentioned that he hasn't decided whether he's going to travel further up the mountains to make a pilgrimage to some of the shrines in the area, or stop at Cloud…"

Itachi frowned, troubled by the mention of the hidden village. If Roshi decided to enter, they were under orders not to take the risk of following him in there, and in that case, they would just have to wait him out until he chose to leave again. He was hardly complaining, though; he needed the extra time to check in on Sasuke and see whether his younger brother was still resisting Orochimaru's attempts to use him as a host body. As it always did, the thought of Orochimaru, that abomination, possessing Sasuke, turned his stomach. In an attempt to control his revulsion, Itachi spoke again, keeping his tone as mild as ever. "Your shopkeeper certainly divulged a lot of information. This is more than we have had in quite some time."

Sakura shrugged one shoulder, looking somewhat guilty. "I told him that Roshi was an old friend of my grandfather's, and I wanted to find him because my grandfather was ill. He was really obliging after that, and I felt bad, but…it was necessary, right?"

"Right," Itachi replied quietly.

Sakura gave him a slightly wan smile, and for the first time, he noticed how exhausted she looked. They had risen with the sun in the morning, and ninety miles of hard travel and interrogation would take its toll on someone less used to this lifestyle, like she was. She glanced away, her eyes drifting to and lingering for several moments on the sweet shop just ahead of them; the banners adorned with colorful illustrations of dango, miniature green tea and chocolate balls mounted on long lollipop sticks, and ice cream cones.

It was a cute little shop, brightly and prettily lit like the others, and Itachi stopped in front of it impulsively. "One large stick of the green tea and chocolate truffles, please," he asked the woman behind the counter politely.

Sakura blinked, surprised, at what seemed to be the very sudden craving on his part. Then she remembered that he didn't even like green tea anyway, and she blushed, tugging on his sleeve underneath the counter and shaking her head emphatically. "No, it's okay, you really don't have to," she protested under her breath. "I'm fine, and we're probably going to eat in less than an hour anyway—"

Sakura trailed off, hearing her traitorous stomach growl audibly, and doubly betrayed by her soft sigh as the woman handed over a large stick of the fragrant desserts, the end carefully wrapped in tissue, while Itachi paid the requisite amount of money. He turned and began to walk away, leaving her scowling at his back, and when he finally turned around to look at her, he actually seemed to smile just a little – well, the corners of his lips quirked upwards a miniscule amount, anyway, and the expression in his eyes softened for an instant. He held out the stick of truffles. "I have no intention of eating these, Sakura. The green tea has ruined the chocolate flavor, and Kisame would likely appreciate them far less than you will."

Sakura rolled her eyes, disinclined to argue with him further. At the same time, though, she was secretly surprised by how much more approachable he could be when he was like this. In three weeks, this was the first time she had ever seen Itachi even come close to smiling and being conventionally sociable. She had always tried to be friendly to him, from the very beginning, but for some unfathomable reason – well, he was always polite, but he had never exactly showed any sign of reciprocating her warmth, until now. She quickened her pace to catch up with him, and their fingers brushed when he wordlessly handed her the stick of desserts, and she couldn't help but beam at him and give another muffled sigh of satisfaction as she bit into the first large truffle. "Thank you so much, Itachi. This is amazing."

Somewhat unsure of the proper response, Itachi just nodded, but in the next instant, he blinked as the stick was brandished in front of his nose, narrowly avoiding poking his eyes out. He glanced at Sakura out of the corner of his eye; the difference in height between them was so pronounced that she had to extend her arm quite a bit to hold the truffles to his lips, but she looked unfazed by this. "Are you sure you don't want to try some? They're really tasty."

He was fairly certain that on the pale green powder of the first, half-bitten truffle, directly in front of his lips, he could see the remnants of Sakura's softly shiny lip balm. It smelled faintly of cherries, contrasting with the actual aroma of the dessert, and before he could stop himself, Itachi wondered if it would taste as sweet as it smelled.

He demurred, of course, and she shrugged, telling him cheerfully that he didn't know what he was missing out on, as she continued to eat. They fell into a companionable silence as they walked, heading for the outskirts of the village, while Sakura admired the lights, making occasional comments about decorations she found particularly lovely. It was foolish of him, he knew, but Itachi was all too conscious of how close they were; her side would bump against his occasionally, and their hands brushed several times, and each time, he thought about how he should put his hands into the pockets of his cloak, but he didn't do it. Even though the soft green tea truffles were almost gone now and it was likely purely mental, he kept smelling the fragrance of Sakura's lip balm mixed in with the green tea powder and the sweet chocolate, and for a moment – if it weren't for the black-and-red cloak that swirled around him with every step – Itachi could almost pretend that they were no different from the young couples he had seen earlier. Just two people, living simple, uncomplicated lives, and taking advantage of this festival to enjoy a first date.

The thought was tempting, appealing – and fleeting. In the next moment, he already felt ashamed for the moment of unforgivable weakness. He could hardly believe that he had entertained such a concept. After all that he had done in this life, he did not even deserve to think of, to even _want _such things.

The lights of the village were fading behind them, and Sakura turned, looking over her shoulder regretfully, as they approached the end of the gentle downhill slope and entered the clearing. The stark emptiness and darkness was a sharp contrast to their previous surroundings, and Itachi couldn't help but wonder whether the sights and sounds had triggered subconscious memories of Konoha for her as well. Eventually, though, the vaguely sorrowful expression faded from her face, and she walked ahead of him, beginning to call Kisame's name in her insistent manner.

They found him near the stream, holding several large, dead fish in each of his bare hands, but he managed to wave nevertheless. "Sorry for not setting up camp already," he grunted, readjusting his grip on the fish, "but seriously, I couldn't resist this haul. So fresh! The blood's still warm in their veins! It's much better than any of that stale shit we'd get at the restaurants around here…"

Itachi spared a moment to wince at Kisame's multiple uses of imagery, and Sakura expressed what he was feeling. "Ugh, that is so gross. But here—"

She stepped forward, taking a few of the dead fish out of his hands, and Kisame grinned, flexing his now free right hand in relief. "Thanks, kid. So what do you have to tell me?"

Sakura filled him in on what she had told Itachi as they walked back to the clearing, and the two of them remained deep in discussion as Itachi lit a large fire with the use of his Katon. He noticed firstly that she stared at him for a few moments as he was doing so, a rather peculiar look on her face, until something else that Kisame said recaptured her attention – and secondly, the way she almost flinchingly handled her kunai and her raw fish, showing none of the obvious gusto that Kisame did, or the detached indifference that he had. It was strange how, as a medic-nin, Sakura could handle grievous sicknesses with often disturbing physical symptoms, and observe and heal battle-incurred gory wounds without batting an eyelid, but balk at the thought of doing something as simple as cleaning a fish. But then again, some people were like that – he remembered that his mother had absolutely despised touching raw chicken. He could do nothing about the fact that his Katon might have disturbed her (he had the distinctly unpleasant feeling that perhaps, to some area of her mind, it may have reminded her of Sasuke), but without saying a word, after neatly skinning his fish, cutting the head off, de-boning and filleting it – all in less than three minutes – Itachi reached for hers and did the same.

Sakura shot him a look of such profound gratitude that, to her alarm, apparently disquieted Itachi so much that seemed to forget that he had a chunk of fish roasting in the fire until one side had been hopelessly blackened.

She had observed over the past three weeks that their dinnertime routine was usually the same. They'd eat, with her and Kisame taking longer than Itachi to finish, and while they sat around, taking their time and leisurely talking about something or another, Itachi would rise and set up the campsite, pitching the tent or disappearing to do perimeter checks or to reinforce the concealment genjutsu around them. It almost made her feel bad that he seemed to do all the work in that aspect, but when she had quietly brought it up to Kisame once, he had just shrugged and told her that Itachi wasn't really one for 'the dinnertime social hour,' as he had put it. Then he had looked thoughtful, and clarified that Itachi wasn't one for any social hour.

Eventually, though, as he did tonight, he returned to the fire, taking his customary seat alone on the opposite side of them. Sakura tore her disbelieving gaze away from Kisame, who was polishing off his fifth fish, and just as she was resolving for the third time to undertake a detailed analysis of his metabolism, all of the day's exhaustion seemed to catch up with her, and she yawned so widely mid-sentence that it embarrassed her a little. Maybe it was just the shadows from the firelight, but even Itachi looked slightly amused by it.

Kisame snorted derisively. "It's barely nine, kid. You're such a lightweight that it's not even funny. You run with the—" he stopped abruptly, and after a pause so short it was barely noticeable, he continued. "You run with us; you've got to work on your stamina so that you're up to par."

Sakura raised an eyebrow at him sardonically, wondering what he had originally meant to say. "Yeah, I'm sure I'd have an abundance of energy and stamina if I, like you, was an incurable glutton and ate as much food as a small army per day."

"I take that as a compliment," Kisame scoffed. "Anyway, good night, kid."

"Good night. And don't go for a sixth fish, I don't want to be woken up at midnight to deal with your ruptured stomach." Sakura rose and stretched, eyeing the tent, before she remembered her other teammate – who was still sitting quietly on the other side of the fire, looking as contemplative as always. He looked up at her, and she nodded, trying not to feel awkward. There was never any casual, playful banter with him. "Night, Itachi."

He murmured a barely audible reciprocation, and Sakura made her way to her tent, after shooting another warning glare at Kisame, who was in fact thoughtfully considering the last raw fish. Itachi always set the tent up far enough away from where he and Kisame slept, near the fire, to give her a sense of privacy, and after she crawled in and threw herself down on the assorted blankets and pillow next to her pack, she leaned her cheek against the pillow and pulled the heavily chakra-heated blankets around herself, feeling too weary, and comfortably warm, to consider changing right now. Getting undressed and dressed was always a tedious experience when they were traveling. She usually had to do it under the covers in her tent, which was harder than it sounded. It was the only time she ever really was conscious of the fact that she was the only female on a team with two males, and that they were together _all the time. _Not that she thought that Kisame and Itachi were perverts, of course. They'd never made her feel uncomfortable or anything.

Maybe she could change after a few minutes – or, not at all. These clothes were warmer than her pajamas. On the far side of the tent, through the canvas, Sakura could just barely make out the silhouette of Kisame and Itachi and the fire, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep as soon as possible. Despite Kisame's teasing, she sorely needed it, especially if they were going to be up at dawn again tomorrow. But as it sometimes did when a person was just too exhausted, sleep was slow to come. Eventually, Sakura turned back on her side and opened her eyes tiredly, staring at the small, blurred silhouettes on the far wall. Judging from the hand movements, Kisame was in fact being stupid and eating the sixth fish. Itachi looked like he was reading a book.

She was surprised by the unexpected rush of fondness she felt for them then. Her nervousness, on the day that she had first regained consciousness after her injury and worried so much about the two of them, seemed misplaced, in reflection. She had misjudged Kisame, especially. Though he was physically frightening and intimidating, and he had the most brusque, blunt, and occasionally obnoxious manner imaginable, their relationship was generally positive and uncomplicated. Sometimes his bloodthirstiness worried her, but at the same time, he seemed unquestionably loyal to Itachi, and to her. He treated both of them with his…special_…_brand of – well, she supposed she could call it kindness.

Sakura rolled onto her back, drawing the blankets around herself again and staring up at the sky, trying to force her tired muscles to relax fully. _Itachi…_

She only wished she could sum up her thoughts and instincts toward him as neatly as she could with Kisame. Kisame was not a complicated person. What you saw was not always nice and pretty, but that was what you got. He was very open. Itachi, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. After all this time, she still felt like she hardly knew him at all. He always came across as considerate and gentle – he had been the one who had heated up all of these blankets for her, for instance – but he was also…distant, somehow. Like he didn't want to get close; like he was purposely putting space between him and her. And she couldn't even begin to guess at the reasons for that.

Part of it was because he didn't speak much, Sakura assumed. Itachi was an unusually, intensely withdrawn and reserved person. _Intense _was actually the perfect word to describe him. Her thoughts drifted for a few minutes, and not for the first time, she wondered how old he was. She would put him at five or six years older than her, in his early twenties for sure – but there were times when he certainly seemed older than that, and not just because of the deeply pronounced frown lines on both sides of his face. Sometimes, when he was sitting by himself, while she and Kisame were talking or while all three of them were doing their own thing, Itachi just looked troubled_. _Like there was something weighing very heavily on his mind and taking an emotional toll on him, no matter how subtle it was. She had the feeling that the reason for his preoccupation had nothing to do with the mission that the three of them were on, either. Sure, they all did get frustrated with Roshi's elusiveness and the fact that they felt like were trying to catch smoke with their bare hands, but she seriously doubted that Itachi was internalizing it _that_ much.

There were other things about him that made her think, too. Qualities that she couldn't quite put her finger on. He looked saddened, sometimes. Downtrodden. World-weary. He looked like somebody who had seen or experienced things so terrible they were beyond her imagination. And sometimes, when they were at their base – well, it turned out that it was Itachi's bedroom that was just across the hall from hers, and there were some nights when she couldn't sleep and was up late, and when she was awake, she could swear that she heard the eerie, muted sounds of convulsive coughing in the dead of the night. These fits could last up to twenty minutes, and it was a recurring issue; it had happened several times in the past week alone. She knew it would have to be quite serious, if she could hear him through his closed bedroom door, the hallway, and her door…

She had never dared to go to his room and ask what was going on, and if he needed help, or anything. Next time, she would have to summon up the courage. Considering what she knew of him, it seemed impossible that Itachi would not have whatever it was under control, but still…

Sakura closed her eyes then, turning on her side and curling into herself. Her body had finally relaxed enough that she was actually at ease, and her dark-haired, enigmatic teammate was the last thought that her mind held on to, before she slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

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Within the next day, they found that the hunt for Roshi had hit a dead end. He had entered Cloud, and though Kisame repeatedly said that he thought they could get him without causing a large stir, like what happened recently in another village – he'd shot an oddly significant look at Itachi as he said this – Itachi had nixed the plan. Sakura hadn't missed that this time, _he _had glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before flatly refusing to set a foot near Cloud or the surrounding territories, so they could stay away from any patrolling Cloud shinobi as well.

So they had returned to their base, with no choice but to wait it out. Kisame and Itachi took turns leaving the house and patrolling the area near Cloud under cover of genjutsu, in hopes of learning something about when Roshi might leave. Sakura had offered to go multiple times, but to her frustration, both of them refused. _You're the medic, we can't have you captured, _was their constant refrain, no matter how much she persisted.

Sakura spent her days in the base studying her medical scrolls and textbooks. Unlike the concept of shinobi hidden villages and certain other facets of the shinobi lifestyle, which Itachi had had to explain to her again, she remembered more of this material than she did anything else, really. Where everything else in her mind, save for basic personal facts, was more or less a blank slate; the things in the textbooks and her medical chakra was comparatively fresh and close to the surface – like it had just been buried with a thick layer of dust rather than obliterated. Reviewing the information thrice had brought most it back, but there was no harm in more studying.

Sakura fell asleep two hours after dinner, in the middle of the chapter of the book detailing different types of serious respiratory illnesses. As she'd grown more tired and her eyelids had felt heavier and heavier, the book's tiny print had started to run together, blurring into several indistinct scribbles, like little black worms wriggling along the yellowed page. The next thing she knew, she was dreaming that she was alone in a crowded rural clinic, surrounded by hundreds of ill patients who were all coughing at once. The rough, hacking cacophony made her skin crawl, but worse than that was the fact that many of them had begun to cough up blood onto their sheets; blood in which thousands of little black worms swam—

But then the dream changed. The people and the clinic disappeared, but the worms remained, and they tiny, repulsive little creatures seemed to be swarming together to create a wholly different, horrifying – but implausible – entity. The worms melded together to create three giant snakes, larger than buildings, with fangs longer than her entire arm; with soulless, evil yellow eyes that glistened with menace, and the snakes were smashing down the tall protective walls that protected her home (bright sunlight, warm on her arms and shoulders, leaves all around her, everywhere she looked), and rushing into it, toward her, and—

Sakura's eyes snapped open out of sheer panic, all of the breath leaving her body in a harsh gasp, and it took a moment for her to comprehend her surroundings – that she was in her small, heated, comfortable, safe bedroom, and there was no snakes and no worms, and no attack, and it had all just been an awful nightmare, but…

She pushed herself up into a sitting position shakily, looking around her room again. She'd fallen asleep on her stomach, with her head flat on the textbook. Her limbs were trembling uncontrollably, and though it wasn't warm in her room, the back of her loose pink t-shirt was sticking to her body, which was covered in cold, clammy sweat. Sakura closed the textbook and shoved it aside, not caring that it fell to the ground with a solid thump, and slowly settled herself in a normal position on her bed, with her head on the pillows, and she grasped the loose blankets around her almost desperately and clutched them to her chest, almost as if they were a stuffed animal.

_It was nothing, _she repeated to herself over and over again, unsure why her heart was still pounding like that; why she was still sweating; why her eyes were jumping from one corner of the room to another, to the walls to the door to the window to the balcony door, like she was expecting an attack at any moment. _Just a nightmare…_

But it hadn't _felt _like just a nightmare. It had seemed so real. The sun on her arms, the green leaves around her…the overwhelming panic and fear she'd felt when the snakes had broken down the walls and invaded her home, and the people dressed in tan clothing, with blurred, indistinct faces had leaped from the heads of the snakes to run along the rooftops with deadly speed…

Had that really been her home, though? She had no memory of the place, of course, but it seemed unlikely. After all, Itachi and Kisame had said her home was Rain, where she had trained as a medic-nin and met them, and – perhaps it was a part of her subconscious memory that had survived the injury – but she sensed that whatever she had just dreamed of could not be Rain. Could not be her home, regardless of the inexplicable attachment she felt for it, and the all-consuming nature of her fear that it would be harmed…

_Just a nightmare, _Sakura repeated, turning on her side and closing her eyes firmly. There was probably some symbolism to it or something. She'd run across a few books in the library downstairs that claimed that all dreams, no matter how apparently nonsensical, had hidden meanings.

But no matter how hard she tried, sleep would not return. The fear and horror she'd felt had been too intense and complete, and she couldn't even try to properly relax her mind again. Scowling, Sakura glanced at the clock at her bedside, which told her it was one in the morning, and then disentangled herself from the covers, got out of bed, and stretched. There was no point lying around and freaking herself out even more.

The rest of the house was dark and silent, as Sakura padded downstairs gingerly. Kisame had left a small lamp on in the kitchen, as he usually did, and the faint orange glow illuminated her path into the library. She sighed in relief at the transition from cold tile to warm, plush carpet, as she glanced around the expansive area. It was easily her favorite room in the house – large enough that it took up most of the spacious downstairs, and the entire room was filled with shelves upon shelves of books that were nearly floor-to-ceiling. There had to be thousands in there, composed of nearly every subject available. That took up most of the space of the room, but in the far walls, there were a few old armchairs and desks.

The library was always dimly lit, but not in a creepy way. She actually found the atmosphere comforting. When she'd asked Kisame why their base had a place like this, he had told her that the man who owned this house previously had passed away, and he had no children to claim these things. Not that she was complaining, of course…

Sakura made her way toward her favorite section on instinct, and within two minutes, she found it: a wonderful, magnificently detailed and thorough book on human anatomy and physiology. She had made her way through one fourth of it already, and this was just what she needed right now; something soothing and familiar. The human body was a beautiful and awe-inspiring thing, and hopefully those emotions would chase away the ones that her nightmare had incurred.

Clutching the huge volume under her arm, she headed toward her favorite armchair in the very back of the library, and she turned the corner, flipping through the pages of her book to find where she had left off—

—And crashed right into somebody else. Her lips parted instinctively, but before she could do more than complete her startled intake of breath, Itachi had gently but firmly placed his hand over her mouth, evidently foreseeing her reaction. "It's alright," he told her quietly. "It's just me."

Apparently once he judged that she wouldn't scream, he released her, and Sakura took a deep breath, noticing with displeasure that the anxiety that had been triggered by her dream had flared up again; her heart was hammering fast. Itachi was eyeing her curiously, and she gave him a weak smile, wondering what he was doing up. He was just wearing a loose t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants, like her, but he also looked every bit as awake as she did.

"Sorry," she said finally, "I didn't mean to…uh, bump into you."

Sakura barely had time to wince at the lameness of her statement by the time Itachi just raised an eyebrow, regarding her seriously. "There is nothing to apologize for."

There were several long beats of silence, in which Sakura avoided looking directly at him and wondered if there was a polite way to turn and escape to the armchair, before Itachi spoke again. "…Is everything all right?"

Sakura blinked at the completely unexpected question, but when she finally looked up at him, she could see that he was being sincere; there was something approaching concern in his dark gray eyes. "Yeah," she replied, lifting one hand to rub the back of her neck self-consciously. "I just had a nightmare, and I couldn't go back to sleep. I figured it would be better to come down here and get my mind off things rather than work myself up even more."

Itachi hesitated again before he spoke, as though he had momentarily thought better of it, but decided to continue anyway. "I understand what you mean."

Surprised as much by the uncharacteristic personal disclosure – it showed in the stiffness of his words – as by the actual content of what he had said,Sakura's disbelieving gaze snapped up to him again. It seemed impossible – well, it was silly, she knew, because Itachi was _human, _after all, but still, she couldn't imagine someone as strong, as powerful, as flawlessly in-control as him, having fears. As being susceptible to something as comparatively mundane as a nightmare. She couldn't imagine what _he _would be afraid of and what would disturb him enough to keep him up at night…but at the same time, no matter how curious she was, she couldn't possibly ask him. Despite her initial overtures of friendship, which he had never been very responsive to, they just weren't close.

"Oh," she settled with, at last. "So…do you come here when you can't sleep too?"

"Almost every night." Itachi paused, again sounding as if he was unsure whether to continue, but he eventually pressed on. "I find it rather soothing, in a way."

Sakura realized that this was probably the longest non-mission related conversation she'd ever had with him, and she couldn't help but give him a tentative smile. It was nice, getting a rare glimpse of the person under the cool, perpetually detached exterior. She had the feeling that he would be nice, if he opened up more.

She opened her mouth to say something – she wasn't quite sure what – but Itachi beat her to the punch, metaphorically. "Human anatomy and physiology," he commented, obviously having noticed what she was holding. "…Interesting choice for nighttime reading."

Sakura clutched her book close to her chest defensively. "I like it. It's hard to explain, but when you think about it, the human body is just such a remarkable thing. We take our basic life functions for granted, but in reality, it's so many unimaginably complex interactions of a great number of complicated, intricate body systems…"

She trailed off, aware that calm, stoic Itachi actually looked a little bit amused, and she made a face at him, momentarily forgetting that he was not somebody that she usually shared this kind of levity with. A familiar title on the nearby shelf caught her attention then, and Sakura stared around at the books that surrounded them (surely it couldn't be?), bemused, before her gaze snapped back to him. She had been about to ask him what he chose for nighttime reading, just to be polite and because he had initiated the conversation, but this was just startling. "Itachi?" she asked, partially unable to believe the conclusion she'd just drawn. "You…you read poetry?"

She could hardly keep the laughter out of her voice at the end, partially overcome by how unbelievable it was – she'd always imagined Itachi as the type to immerse himself in detailed volumes of military tactics and strategy – and maybe it was just the lighting, but she could have sworn he actually blushed a little bit. "Yes. I do."

The words were typically concise and to the point, but instead of the usual total blank lack of emotion, Sakura definitely heard a defensive tone to his voice, and she had to giggle at how ridiculous and unexpected this conversation was. "Okay, fine, don't get all upset at me. Here—"

She took one of the books near Itachi, which she assumed he had been perusing, off the shelf and opened it to a page in the middle, her eyes narrowing with concentration and in response to the dim light as she read. Sakura was vaguely conscious of Itachi leaning against the bookshelf, watching her, and she finally closed the book and placed it into his waiting hands. "Well?" he prompted, surprising her again.

Sakura met his gaze evenly, still marveling at how much one could learn about a person by learning what they liked to read, and she decided it would be best to be honest. "…Gloomy. Depressing. I don't know how you stand it."

This time, both of Itachi's eyebrows raised – a definite first – and before she could even blink, he had confiscated her anatomy and physiology book and held it open, eyes scanning the page with remarkable speed. In an instant, he closed it. "An extraordinarily detailed description of the fatal havoc that sepsis can wreak on the internal organs. I do not see how this is any better."

Sakura glowered, standing on the tips of her toes to pluck it out of his grasp. "Fine. Come here, then."

Itachi blinked, startled, but he followed her through the shelves of books to the section nearest the armchair. Sakura set her anatomy book down on the chair and smiled as she surveyed the rows of books in front of her. "You could consider this more _normal _light reading, I guess. I finished a couple of these before I found what I'm reading now."

"It's…historical fiction."

For the second time that night, Itachi's tone betrayed some emotion, and Sakura inclined her head as she took one dog-eared paperback off the shelves. "Mm-hmm. This one is about a princess and a samurai! I know, it doesn't look like it would be good, but it really is very interesting." She directed a rather mischievous look in his direction. "You should give it a try. It's way better than that stuff you were reading earlier."

Itachi actually took a small step away from the book, looking at it warily. "I do not…besides, it seems implausible for a princess and a samurai to have any kind of romantic liaison, as they are in completely different social classes."

"That's kind of the point," Sakura replied dryly, before handing it to him. "Here. Read the first three chapters and tell me that it doesn't draw you in."

To her pleasure, Itachi accepted it reluctantly, and she watched him read for several minutes. "It is decent," he eventually allowed.

"_Just _decent?"

"Yes. Although I do admit that the circumstances leading to the beginning of the princess and the samurai's acquaintance with one another are quite intriguing."

"They are! Now, okay, do you think that he's telling her the truth or not? Do you think that he's _really _an ally of her father's, or do you think he's changed sides and has been sent by the rival lord to be…like, a spy, or a double agent, or something?"

"Sakura, it seems obvious that the man is a spy and he is not who he claims to be."

"_No! _I mean, after how she helped him, how could he lie to her face like that—_" _

"I understand why you might feel that way, but I feel that the inaccuracies in his story seem to become evident around page fifty-seven…"

* * *

They had stayed in the library and discussed the book for two and a half hours, until she had grown steadily more tired and Itachi had walked her upstairs to her room. _Sleep well, _he had told her, opening her door for her and giving her a concerned look. _No nightmares._

She'd agreed, and then walked to her bed and promptly passed out before her head hit the pillow. When Sakura woke up four hours later, she had at first thought that her nighttime…marathon book club session…with Itachi had been a very strange, unbelievable dream – until she had walked downstairs to find him reading the end of the book over a cup of tea, looking completely enraptured by the words on the page.

From then on, things between them had changed, and Sakura was relieved by it. It was nice, being on friendly terms with him, like the more relaxed, comfortable relationship that Itachi had always had with Kisame, and like she had with Kisame. Itachi was now not near as intimidating and forbiddingly closed-off as she had thought, and surprisingly, he was in fact responsive to holding conversations, even though he wasn't nearly as talkative or outspoken as she and Kisame. As she had predicted, Itachi was actually capable of being a very good friend – sure, despite the fact that he was just naturally prone to keeping to himself, he was also kind, gentle, intelligent, and very considerate. And she liked that. How could she not?

Strangely enough, though, the more they actually talkedto one another, the more Sakura found that Itachi puzzled her. He was a complete contradiction. At first glance, for the first month that they had known each other, she had automatically assumed that he was the perfect shinobi. His chakra reserves were massively powerful, unlike anything she had ever felt before. Intellectually, he was brilliant. He could move, just to form hand seals, or move his entire body over even great distances, faster than the blink of an eye. According to Kisame, Itachi had also mastered tens of thousands of techniques, with the aid of his bloodline limit (which never failed to make her feel distinctly unsettled whenever he used it), _and _he showed equally great prowess in taijutsu and genjutsu.

Once, she had been watching him pass time in the backyard of the house – which, for Itachi, consisted of various weapons and taijutsu drills – hardly able to believe her own eyes, when Kisame had come out to join Itachi, taken one look at her expression, and then snorted with mirthless laughter. _"Yeah, that was my reaction when I first met him too," _he'd said. "_He's damn near invincible, kid, do you know that? You should see him in a fight. This is absolutely nothing."_

It was true. In her eyes, Itachi was the embodiment of the best of the best among shinobi. No matter how embarrassing it was to admit it, he was almost awe-inspiring to watch. She had never seen anything so simultaneously graceful and deadly before. But at the same time, Sakura couldn't help but notice that there was something wrongthere. No matter how technically skilled and amazingly proficient he was, there was something missing.

It was obvious why Kisame was a shinobi. He was a hunter at heart, and an adrenaline junkie – similarly to Itachi, he had been builtfor this, but unlike Itachi, he seemed to relish his lifestyle as a shinobi; as a swordsman of the Mist, as he obviously took great pride in telling her. It was hard to make sense of, even in her mind, but it was an inextricable part of who Kisame was. She couldn't imagine him doing anything else. He loved it completely and totally, and wouldn't want anything else.

Even though Sakura couldn't remember the exact circumstances of how and why she had come to be who she was, and whereshe was, with these two people, she could make a fairly accurate guess. She was as passionate about being a medic as Kisame was about fighting, and she was needed here – with two shinobi who, by nature of their occupation, had extremely dangerous lives.

But with Itachi, that sense of purpose was completely missing. He was the best shinobi out of all of them, but there was no passion to him – it was like everything he did, as brilliant as it was, was just going through the motions. Kisame's joy when he was unleashing his monstrously destructive water ninjutsu, or training with Samehada, was palpable. And she personally couldn't stop smiling whenever she used her medical chakra to do something even as simple as healing Kisame's old shoulder injury. But when Itachi created his super-charged fire ninjutsu with hardly any effort, or split a single leaf in half with a kunai strike from across a clearing, there was absolutely nothing on his part – not even a flicker of expression indicating any special sense of pride or joy or accomplishment. It was almost as if all of it was a chore, to him. From what she had observed and learned about his personality, it seemed completely unsuited to this kind of inherently violent lifestyle.

Why had he become a shinobi, anyway? That was just one of the questions Sakura longed to ask him, but she had never brought it up. If anything, Itachi seemed more content when he was studying something or another – he'd actually started reading her anatomy and physiology book – or devising tactics and plans, than when he was actually doing more _active _shinobi-like work. His personality actually seemed more suited to pursuing higher education or something; she could easily envision him studying away and becoming a doctor, or, hell, even writing poetry…the point was, there were so many things she could imagine him doing that would make him happier.

She couldn't even begin to guess at why, considering all that, he was _here, _though. In any case, Sakura thought to herself wryly, she wasn't complaining.

It was this that she was thinking about when she closed her eyes, hearing the loud crack of thunder above the roof of the small café that she sat in, and seeing the flash of lightning in the instant before her eyelids shut. The café was cold, and she waited until the waiter had stepped into the back of the store, to complete the transportation technique. She would be a minute early, but there had been no intelligence today, and she doubted any new patrons would walk in right now.

In the next second, she landed squarely on the sofa of the base's living room, and she opened her eyes, disoriented, just in time to see Itachi and Kisame materialize in the small area, both of them with much more grace. She didn't even spare a moment to feel grouchy about it, though, as she looked both of them over, dismayed. "Oh, no. You didn't."

Kisame, who was soaked to the skin, gave a massive sneeze and then pulled off his drenched Akatsuki cloak irritably. "Yeah. Damn storm, I had no idea it would hit so fast. It was worth it, though – I tailed those two guys who were in the previous shift of Roshi's guard clear across the village before they let anything slip, but he's leaving three days from now."

"Finally_,_" Sakura sighed. This had been the first day that Itachi and Kisame had relented and let her come along with them, but she had been assigned to a café in the exterior border town, in the hopes that she would overhear something of importance. Itachi had patrolled the perimeter of the village, to make sure that Roshi hadn't slipped out during the day, but Kisame had actually gone inside the village under cover of genjutsu. Sitting in the café all day had been tedious, but speaking objectively, she knew that Kisame had probably had the most difficult task out of all of them.

Itachi and Kisame had already begun to discuss about they would do three days from now, while Kisame wrung out his cloak on the carpet, creating a large pool of water. "Right – right, I'm betting he slips out during the afternoon, in disguise, when he can blend in better; there's always high traffic in and out of the village during that time…" he nodded, absorbed. "We'll talk about it over dinner. I'll start after I get warmed up a little."

But he sneezed again, this one even more massive than the previous, and Sakura gave him an alarmed look. If they were going to start the chase again in full force within a few days, he couldn't get sick now. "No, don't bother," she cut in hastily. "You've done enough today – go take a hot shower, drink a warm cup of tea, and change into something dry as soon as possible. I'll take care of dinner."

Kisame perked up visibly, despite the fact that after the last sneeze, he was now looking rather green around the gills. "You will? That would be great, kid. But wait…" A somewhat suspicious expression slid onto his face. "You can cook?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I can cook!"

"If you're sure, then," Kisame replied dubiously, and he patted Sakura on the shoulder, making her knees almost give way. "Thanks! And by the way, I'm not in a vegetarian mood tonight."

"Are you ever? You know, it wouldn't killyou to get some non-animal protein in once in a while…"

"Very funny, kid. Very funny."

With that, both of them went their separate ways, Sakura inside the kitchen and Kisame to his bedroom, leaving Itachi standing alone near the foot of the stairs. In a rare display of age-appropriate behavior, he rolled his eyes a little at their antics before proceeding to his room upstairs.

He hadn't gotten nearly as soaked as Kisame, and removing his boots and Akatsuki cloak was all it took for him to get more comfortable. He had predicted the intensity and rapid onset of the storm, and had pre-empted the reaction he expected by taking several capsules of his medication in the morning. The side effects – dizziness and nausea – had been more pronounced than usual, but at least kept his more problematic symptoms temporarily at bay.

Itachi settled himself cross-legged on his bed, reaching for the thick sheaf of documents he had settled underneath his pillow this morning. The stack of papers was held in place by a black ribbon, which he pulled off and cast aside as he bent over the papers, staring at them intently.

This had absolutely nothing to do with the mission he, Kisame, and Sakura were in the Land of Lightning to fulfill, and everything to do with the one remaining thing in life that had any importance to him. Each piece of paper held valuable intelligence, missives from the network of contacts he had built during his time in the Akatsuki, on the latest happenings within the Land of Sound – namely, the activities of the so-called Otokage, the abomination Orochimaru, and those of his disciples. Including Sasuke.

If he could do things his way, he would defect from the Akatsuki at this very minute and proceed to Sound. He would hide in the outskirts of the village for months, if necessary – anything to keep an eye on Sasuke; to protect him from Orochimaru's sick attempts to use him as his next vessel. He had actually been tempted to do it, when he had first received word of Sasuke's abandonment of Konoha and alliance with Orochimaru. The memories of his own last encounter with Orochimaru had still been fresh in his mind; it had been perhaps the most difficult fight he had experienced in his entire life, and even now, the thought of that monster attempting to fuse his hideous essence with Sasuke's, made Itachi's hands tighten into white-knuckled fists.

But he had restrained himself – barely. He still had to keep an eye on Madara, after all, and he knew that his ancestor would strike at Konoha at the first chance; the very moment he was out of the picture.

So he had settled for the next best thing. These sources kept him informed on a nearly day-to-day basis, regarding Sasuke's safety. Thus far, according to the reports, his brother seemed safe. For now. Itachi was familiar with Orochimaru's modus operandi – like the serpents that he had contracted with, he lured his opponents into a sense of false security before striking with deadly speed, and by then, it would be too late. He could only hope, with every fiber of his being, that Sasuke wouldn't get too arrogant. The moment he believed that he could best Orochimaru in a fight was precisely when Orochimaru would strike, and proceed to prove him very wrong.

Belatedly, Itachi realized that his heart was hammering against his chest, and his nails were gouging painful half-circles into his palms. It took a conscious effort to relax, and he stared blankly at the opposite wall without quite seeing it.

It was a difficult choice to make, and one that he was still struggling with, every day and every night. If he happened to receive word that Orochimaru was planning to make his move, and that Sasuke was in danger, he would have to leave immediately to protect Sasuke. There was no question. It was the only way. To do otherwise would be unconscionable. But at the same time, if he left, Madara would undoubtedly begin working against Konoha. He was still utterly fixated on the complete destruction of the village, and he knew all too well that Madara could mobilize a devastating invasion force with nightmarish speed. By the time he had dealt with Orochimaru (assuming he even survived the conflict), it would be too late.

It was a perverse echo of the choice he had been forced to make eight years ago. Sasuke or Konoha. All the breath left Itachi's body in a quiet sigh as he closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep, calming breath. His head and eyes were beginning to ache out of sheer strain, and he felt drained. He hadn't eaten enough today, and he couldn't think about this now. He just couldn't. It could keep him up during the long hours of the night, as it always did.

He breathed in again, and this time, Itachi's eyes drifted open as he gazed at the door with an expression of faint curiosity. For the first time, he wondered what Sakura could possibly cook – he and Kisame always traded off the duty of preparing dinner, as both of them were exceptionally good at it. Partially to distract himself from the thoughts that he had to keep at bay, Itachi gathered up his letters again and returned them to their place, before slowly proceeding downstairs. The bright light of the kitchen was, as always, a shock to his eyes, and he blinked several times before the sight registered properly.

The kitchen counters were a mess. What looked like the contents of the entire vegetable drawer in the refrigerator had been scattered over the counter, along with a cutting board and knives. There was a giant bowl of shrimp set to defrost on top of a bag of bokchoy, seven bottles of seasoning set out, and a large open bag of noodles in the corner. A pot of water bubbled untended on the stove, and Sakura stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at all of it blankly.

She gave no indication whatsoever that she had noticed him, and Itachi cleared his throat, slightly disconcerted. "…Sakura? Are you all right?"

She actually gave a start of surprise, turning around to face him fully, and hating that he had to walk in on this, Sakura sighed unhappily. It was so hard to explain – how, in the living room talking to Kisame, she had remembered a fleeting image of standing in a kitchen similar to this one, watching hands shaped like her own chopping vegetables and stirring noodles and depositing the noodles into the pot of boiling water. And even more fleeting, the ghost of a disembodied female voice. _All right, Sakura-chan, remember to always add the shrimp first, and then the vegetables, otherwise the vegetables will get limp and overcooked… _

"I just wanted to help Kisame. I didn't think it would be this hard – I mean, I thought I knew how, I thought I remembered, but I just came up here and started and by that time everything just went blank again."

It sounded pathetic even to her own ears, and she couldn't keep her tone from betraying her frustration. Itachi was looking at her with something approaching sympathy, and Sakura stepped forward, avoiding his gaze by busying herself with plucking the tails off each defrosted shrimp and throwing them into the sink. She was vaguely conscious of him coming to join her at the counter, beginning to matter-of-factly sort out the vegetables. "It is all right," he told her, his tone a little more soothing than normal. "This will come along more quickly if we work together, in any case."

Sakura's shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch, and she released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Not for the first time, she felt grateful that she'd discovered this more comfortable friendship with him. "Thanks," she said sincerely. "I really appreciate it."

Itachi kind of shrugged one shoulder, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "It is nothing."

They worked in silence for a while, with Itachi occasionally breaking it to explain to her what exactly they were supposed to be doing. The vast arsenal of food recipes he had flawlessly stored in his mind was incredible, and Sakura was almost certain that he'd acquired it by watching cooking shows with that bloodline limit of his activated. In any case, in surprisingly little time, they had made considerable headway on dinner – the noodles were boiling in the pot, she was sautéing the shrimp in the appropriate seasoning and sauce, Itachi was washing vegetables, and the delicious aroma of cooking food had thoroughly diffused around the kitchen.

Sakura was in considerably better spirits as she turned the heat on the shrimp down, and struck by a sudden fit of inspiration, she waltzed over to the small, battered black radio in the corner of the kitchen and turned it on. There was silence for a split second and then an explosion of static, before a loud burst of catchy, cheerful current pop music came on, filling the kitchen with sound.

To her great amusement, Itachi actually flinched, looking as though he was under assault, and Sakura couldn't help but laugh, although she hurriedly rearranged her expression to something hopefully more stoic when he glanced at her over his shoulder. She flipped through the stations thoughtfully, keeping one eye on her teammate: every time she found something she liked, his shoulders got more and more stiff and his head inched further and further downward out of what looked like sheer misery, although he kept silent and never voiced a complaint. Finally, she compromised by finding a station that played some music from what sounded like two decades ago – she made a face, but Itachi visibly relaxed, so she let it be.

It created a surprisingly cheerful, home-like atmosphere, and Sakura grabbed one of the cutting boards out of a drawer as she joined Itachi by the stove. He was prodding the shrimp with a wooden spoon and considering it thoughtfully, eyeing the noodles while she lined up the vegetables to begin cutting them. It was almost funny, how serious and analytical he looked over something as comparatively simple as making dinner, and standing as close to him as she was, she couldn't help but realize all over again, how tall and well, _mature_-looking he was. Itachi wasn't nearly as ridiculously ripped as Kisame, but with his cloak off, the long, lean muscles of his arms and chest and shoulders definitely looked strongly defined. He was a farcry from the scrawny teenage boy she had seen earlier in the day, who was waiting tables at the café…but he was older, after all. That must have helped.

It couldn't all be attributed to that, though. She never really noticed it most of the time, because Itachi was usually covered from practically head to toe in his Akatsuki cloak, and she hadn't given much thought to it until recently because she just didn't think of him like that (because they hadn't spoken more than a few, entirely mission-related sentences to each other since the day they got reacquainted), but Itachi was just…really, _really _good looking. Especially when he was like this – casually dressed, with the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt rolled up, standing so close to her she could smell the faint scent of rain from earlier clinging to his skin and clothing.

…Objectively speaking, of course. It was totally impartial – just the honest assessment of a member of the opposite sex.

Sakura blushed with the rising heat of the steam from the pot, turning her face a little to the side as she tried to focus on evenly cutting the tomatoes. But all that aside, though, considering the start that they had gotten off to, she was still startled by how comfortable and at ease she felt with him here, like this – just hanging out in the kitchen, working together, listening to music. They just _worked_ together, more so than in just this sense of the word. They fit. No matter how exasperated she sometimes felt at the dead-end mission they were on, at pursuing Roshi through bitter cold and sleet and snow and rain and wind, she still enjoyed being with him and talking to him.

She deposited the chopped tomatoes into the noodles while Itachi stirred them dutifully, and the next thought that came was so totally random that her hand stilled on the way to retrieve the two spring onions from the counter. Itachi noticed the lapse and sent her a curious look, and Sakura compensated by mumbling something unintelligible under her breath, grabbing the onions, and beginning to chop them with lightning fast speed that matched how quickly her thoughts were racing through her mind.

It was a frivolous thing to think of. She couldn't believe the thought had even crossed her mind. It was irrelevant, and not to mention, it was utterly random. But she couldn't help but wonder, anyway, whether Itachi had a girlfriend back home who he did these kinds of things with, because—

Her grip on the knife slipped, and it cut a thin, fine line across the pad of her thumb, instantly drawing blood. "Ouch!"

Itachi gave her a downright alarmed look, abandoning his careful tending of the noodles. "What happened?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Sakura assured him hastily, taking a step away. "Look, it's nothing." She sealed the small cut with an effortless pulse of chakra, and although Itachi looked unconvinced, she made a show of slicing the onions slowly, with flawless control over the knife, until he gave up and turned back to the shrimp in order to prevent them from burning.

Cursing her carelessness, Sakura glared down at the sliced onions as she applied more pressure to the knife than was strictly necessary. It was stupid. It was reallystupid of her, but for some inexplicable reason…the thought of Itachi doing the kind of things he did with her – talking about books for hours, telling her stories when they were on stakeout duty, helping her improve her mediocre accuracy with weapons, warming up her blankets at nighttime, cleaning her raw food when she was too squeamish to do it herself, listening to music, helping her cook dinner, bringing her tea or snacks while they were working without her ever asking him for it, whatever, _anything _– with some other nameless, faceless girl…well, it made her…it made her irrationally flustered and unhappy enough to almost accidentally slice the pad of her thumb off with a knife. Which she would do again if she didn't finish up these damned onions soon.

Sakura deposited them unceremoniously and turned to the large red pepper, which she began to cut with similar viciousness as she began to think about it again.

It was utterly ridiculous, because Itachi was only a friend and teammate, after all. And a pessimistic inner voice insisted that there was no point fretting about it in any case, because she bet he didhave a girlfriend, because how could he not, with his looks and gentle demeanor? _And I bet she's as gorgeous as he is, and with such a correspondingly sweet, loving, caring personality that she's practically saintlike—_

Maybe not, though. Because if he did have an impossibly gorgeous, sweet, loving, girlfriend, he probably wouldn't be here – traveling the world on a hunt that often seemed to go nowhere – in the first place. Itachi and Kisame certainly made it seem like they didn't return to Rain on a frequent basis. Why would he want to be away from the person he loved for that long? It didn't make sense.

Sakura took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and marshal her thoughts. She managed to finish up the red pepper without further incident, her chopping and facial expression perfectly even, despite the intense curiosity she felt beginning to rage inside her. Now that she'd hadthat stupid thought, she couldn't seem to push it to the back of her mind, as much as she tried. She really, really wanted to know, because…

She flinched away from the thought, because admitting it would make it real, but her mind completed it ruthlessly anyway. Because she did not want to be the kind of girl who inadvertently crushed on; formed an attachment to – whatever – another girl's boyfriend. She didn't like Itachi like that, but she wouldn't rule out it becoming a possibility in the future. And she couldn't just come out and ask him straightforwardly, that would make it disgustingly obvious…

Thankfully, Itachi had moved to the other side of the kitchen with the pot of noodles and was slicing thin wedges of fresh lemons to garnish them, so that her back was to him, which made this easier. Sakura closed her eyes for a second and gathered all her nerve, before deciding what she had to do.

To her pleasure, when she spoke, her tone was as light and casual as she had hoped for it to be. "You know, I was talking to Kisame the other day about his little sister, and – you know, he's mentioned her several times, and I was just wondering…I'm sure we've talked about it before and I just don't remember, but do you have anybody significant back in Rain? You know, family, friends…significant other, that type of thing?"

Thankfully, the words came out sounding somewhat normal, but Sakura unconsciously held her breath. Itachi was still on the other side of the kitchen from her, so she couldn't see him, of course, but she heard the steady, rhythmic sound of the stirring noodles stop for a fraction of a second, before resuming again, a little bit slower than before. The lapse had been so brief that she couldn't tell whether had just been her imagination or whether the question had displeased him or something, but finally, Itachi spoke up, and Sakura found herself hanging on to each of his words, fascinated.

"My family…lives there," he told her quietly. "My mother, father, my cousin – he is about a year older than me – and I have a younger brother as well, who is your age."

Sakura exhaled softly, trying to envision it. For some odd reason, she had never imagined Itachi as having a family. "What are they like?" she asked, genuinely interested.

Again, he paused for a brief moment before replying, and she could hardly hear him over the soft clink of the wooden spoon against the pot, and the shifting of the noodles against one another. "My mother is a very gentle, soft-spoken person, but she holds strong convictions. She used to be a very talented kunoichi, but she ceased when she married my father. She enjoys shopping, gardening, and spending time with my younger brother. My father…is very different. He is stern, demanding, extremely ambitious, and set in his ways."

Sakura realized that she was nodding, even though he couldn't see her, but Itachi continued anyway, sounding even more distant, although the affection that crept into his tone was unmistakable. "My cousin is my closest friend, despite the fact that he has always been rather different from the rest of my family. He is intelligent, but prefers not to apply himself. He can be rather amusing, and I have often thought that he would fit in well with you and Kisame. And my younger brother…"

Itachi trailed off for a moment, and though he had spoken of his entire family with such tenderness, his voice softened even more. "He has great drive. He is incredibly skilled and possesses tremendous tenacity and perseverance. He constantly seeks to prove himself, and I hope that he does not lose his way in his desire to do so. He was very sweet and trusting as a child, but like my father, and like other members of our family, he has dangerous ambitions. He can be misguided at times, but I love him completely, regardless of the questionable things he has done in the past."

Itachi finally, abruptly fell silent, and Sakura sighed quietly, letting his words wash over her as she tried to imagine the people he had described with such loving, vivid detail (although his description of his younger brother made her a little uneasy). But it was truly sweet, how obviously attached he was to his family. She had never heard him say so much in one sitting, ever.

His descriptions of his mother, father, cousin, and brother had a deeper effect on her, though, and not for the first time, Sakura wondered whether she, too, had a little brother, or parents who loved her, whom she couldn't remember, and she remembered that strange ghost of memory she'd had in the living room earlier; of standing in the kitchen, listening to a woman trying to teach her how to cook. "I like them," she told him softly. "But I was just wondering…do you happen to know whether I have a family back home too?"

For a few seconds, the hope she felt was almost too much to contain, but when she turned and looked over her shoulder, Itachi just shook his head slightly. "I apologize, but I am not aware of anybody."

It was strange, to feel a such sense of loss and being bereft when you didn't even apparently have anybody to miss, but Sakura's shoulders slumped nevertheless as she turned back to her side of the counter and busied herself with sweeping up onion peels, just to give herself something to do. "…Oh," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, and she couldn't help but wonder what exactly he meant by that. It was a nightmarish prospect, but were her parents…dead? Had she lost them before she had joined Itachi and Kisame? She couldn't imagine any other reason she would have just left her home like that – she could never have left her parents behind. But if they were truly gone, now, she had lost even their memories… She had no pictures, in her bag of personal possessions. No letters, no keepsakes. When she thought of _parents, _there was an utter blank. Had her mother had pink hair like her? Had her father had green eyes? Had they been shinobi, too? Had they given her the sleek, high-quality black fingerless gloves that she'd found carefully folded and wrapped at the bottom of her bag?

The thought made her sick; made her throat close over and her eyes burn, and Sakura cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure and say something, anything, to get her mind off it. "…All right, then. Um, how often do you go back to Rain?"

"Not often. Three or four times a year, if the situation calls for it."

Sakura nodded at the counter. "Do you miss your family?"

Itachi took a little while to reply, again. "…More than anything," he said, at last, and she noticed how very sad he sounded. "Although I plan to be reunited with them soon."

Sakura turned and moved toward him impulsively, joining him near the other counter, as much to try and cheer him up as to alleviate the inexplicable sense of sorrow that she herself felt. "Can I meet them too? They sound wonderful."

Itachi glanced down at her, his expression unreadable, and to her surprise, he reached down and brushed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. "Yes," he replied, barely audibly. "They would love you."

She stared up at him, still taken aback by the fleeting brush of his fingertips against her skin, and she was so briefly overcome by emotion that she opened her mouth to say something, and—

"Hey, something smells great! Is the food ready yet?"

Kisame's exclamation startled both of them, and by the time he strode inside the small room, inhaling deeply with a sigh of appreciation, they had already pulled away from each other, as if burned.

* * *

_to be continued_

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As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	6. The Spark

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was fantastic enough to leave a review. :)_

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_Chapter Six: The Spark_

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Itachi was back in the kitchen again.

He was vaguely aware that he was talking to Sakura. She was chopping vegetables on the other side of the counter, and the radio was playing the old music that he remembered his mother liked to listen to when she cooked, and…

Everything began to shift before his eyes, becoming subtly distorted and wrong, somehow_. _The music faded in volume and became interspersed with static. The kitchen's lighting shorted out with a loud crack, immersing the room in long, eerie shadows, but for some reason, he kept talking to Sakura as if nothing was wrong – telling her about his mother, his father, Shisui, Sasuke; discussing their existence in the present tense (it sounded heartbreakingly unnatural), as he hadn't in seven long years—

It happened then. His father appeared first, skulking just out of the shadows, barely visible, and he was closely followed by his mother – who had the same beautiful face that he remembered; marred by unbelievable terror and anguish in her last moments. She wore the same blood-spattered clothes that she had been wearing on that night, but her arms and legs were nothing now. Bone. She stared at him with sorrowful eyes. Shisui was next, flickering into view next to him, so close that Itachi could feel the sick, mildew-scented dampness radiating off his drenched clothes. He was more whole than Mikoto, but his flesh was mottled and discolored, in the early stages of decomposition, and even now, the vivid red-and-purple bruises, shaped exactly to Itachi's hands, were still painfully visible on his neck. He smelled like the river's muddy water and the grit from the riverbed still clung to his hair. The panic was setting in now, making Itachi's throat close over and his breathing come a little bit faster. _Not again, _he thought irrationally. _Please, not again. _It had been months since the last time, and he didn't want to see them like this again. _Not yet. _But he still continued to talk to Sakura, in part because he didn't want to call attention to this and alarm her, and unbelievably, she didn't seem to notice any of them – any of his deceased family, even though…

His father stepped out of the shadows and walked in a circle around her, passing within an inch of where she stood, and he turned around to stare at his oldest son. The expression on his face was even harder and colder than it had been in life, even though now, worms crawled in and out of the cavity where his eyes had been. Without averting his…gaze…he leaned closer to Sakura, until his lips almost brushed her ear. "He lies," Fugaku whispered, and the quiet, insidious hiss seemed to echo impossibly within the kitchen, over and over again, making Itachi feel claustrophobic, and Sakura froze like a frightened deer. "He _lies. _Remember that, girl. Everything that he says to you is a lie."

"Yeah," Shisui cut in derisively. His voice was as choked and garbled as it had been when he had been screaming for help, his cries cut off by the rush of the water. "Yeah…Itachi and I were real close friends, until he killed me. It took six long minutes, Sakura-chan. He sat on the riverbank for such a long time afterward, trying to scourge the blood from under his fingernails."

Itachi opened his mouth then, trying to say something – anything – but no sound would come out, and his mother just shook her head at him accusingly as she emerged, wraithlike, from the shadows and wrapped her skeleton arms around Sakura's shoulders. Sakura looked at him from the shelter of the embrace, obviously horrified. "How could you?" Mikoto asked simply, accusingly, in a tone she had never directed at him before. "How could you lie like that? For all you know, this girl could have parents who love her, who are sick to death over the thought that she's missing—"

Sakura tugged away from Mikoto and turned to face him fully, the expression on her face so obviously troubled and distressed that it made his head spin. Itachi tried to speak, but again, it felt like something hard and heavy had crawled up into his throat and died there, obstructing the airway completely and making him feel sick to his stomach. _You can't defend yourself, _something inside him was telling him; something made up of Shisui's horribly distorted voice as he had screamed futilely for mercy and cursed, before Itachi had realized he couldn't take it anymore and bumped his head against a rock on the bottom of the river to silence him; _you can't hope to defend yourself, this is indefensible, this is beyond wrong, no matter what justification you claim…_

She appeared in the middle of the kitchen with all the speed and silence that Shisui had, even though this had never been her strong point – and even though she was not as obviously physically…damaged…as the others, her sudden presence still made Itachi, uncharacteristically, want to scream. She walked forward slowly, toward Sakura, without even glancing back at him – but her posture; the tentativeness of her steps; the fear that radiated tangibly off her – cut him like a knife.

She looked so young, now. Thirteen. She should have been his age.

She took Sakura's hand in her own. She didn't look back at him. The fact that they were even in the same room was making her tremble. "Don't be fooled," Megumi Uchiha said shakily. "I thought he was the nicest guy in the world too. The best boyfriend ever. He'd hurry home from whatever mission he was on just to kiss me goodnight. He stopped my heart with a medical ninjutsu from the book I lent him, you know."

For the first time, it became too much, and Itachi closed his eyes tightly in order to cope with the vicious, unrelenting onslaught of memory – his arms tingled, remembering the feeling of Megumi suddenly going limp as the life left her body; his palms and fingers ached, from where he had locked them around Shisui's neck and applied merciless pressure, holding him down in the water; his knuckles throbbed from how tightly he gripped the katana as he advanced toward his parents' bedroom—

Sakura looked at him, obviously horrified beyond belief, and she took an instinctive step back, as if trying to put as much distance between them as possible. She looked at him like she didn't know him at all.

…Or, rather, as if she had just come to know the truth of exactly what he was.

Behind Sakura, his father smirked coldly, cuttingly, before pushing himself away from the counter and walking in front of him, so close that even with his failing eyesight, Itachi could see each segment of the worm that was slithering inside his empty right eye socket. "Tell the truth, Itachi," Fugaku taunted, sneering with disdain. "Your lies reveal the truth, after all. You want us to be alive. You want things to be different. I don't give a damn about your oh-so-_noble _intentions…you regret betraying our clan to Konoha, don't you? _Don't _you?"

Itachi closed his eyes again, like a coward, because he couldn't face them (the hatred and reproach in their eyes); he just couldn't, and the words echoed mercilessly, over and over again, and—

Itachi's eyes snapped open as he stared unseeingly at the ceiling. His breath came in loud, hoarse gasps, and the loose black shirt he wore was plastered to his chest by cold, clammy sweat.

For several moments, he could hardly move, save for the violent tremors that wracked his frame from head to toe, and he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, turning his head against the pillow and forcing himself to inhale and exhale deeply. When the shaking finally subsided, Itachi opened his eyes warily and scanned the dark corners and shadows of his room as he struggled to push himself up into a sitting position. The dark had never been so menacing, and though it was an irrational fear, he half expected to see them again, advancing on him from the shadows…

Before he could even finish the thought, Itachi doubled over unexpectedly, convulsing with a hoarse, violent coughing fit that he hadn't even felt coming. It took a marked effort to keep it mostly silent, and he bit down on his lip so hard it almost bled, even as the intense spasms of coughing shook him like a leaf. He had no choice but to wait it out, and it seemed like hours before the convulsions eased. When Itachi wearily withdrew his trembling hand from his mouth, feeling his chest ache terribly with every uneven exhalation, he was mildly surprised to see a few spatters of slick, dark blood on his fingers. It would have been appropriate to get out of bed and clean up, but his head was spinning relentlessly, now, and his muscles barely felt strong enough to support himself against the mattress, let alone undertake the effort of walking to the bathroom. Slowly, Itachi eased back into bed, curling up like a child and pulling the covers over himself, hiding from the specters, and the only conscious thought his worn, weary mind could formulate was the same apology, over and over again. To his parents, to Shisui, to Sasuke, to Megumi, to all the others. So many. Too many. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. _

He tried to sleep again. According to his best estimation, it was in the early hours of the morning, just before dawn. But the tension and adrenaline and remembered fright and horror were too much, and every time he closed his eyes, he saw them, and every time he tried to relax his mind, he heard them, and finally, marshaling all of his strength, Itachi forced himself to rise from the bed. Ignoring the wave of dizziness he felt, he slowly made his way to the bathroom, but even after the scalding hot shower and the sharp mint flavor of the toothpaste, he still felt as exhausted – more, even – than he had last night.

Itachi braced one arm against the counter, letting it support most of his weight, as he finger-combed his long hair with his free hand, staring at his reflection blankly. His throat felt as if every inch had been rubbed raw with sandpaper, and there was a heavy, persistent ache deep in his chest. The illness seemed to be progressing as he had expected – not only was it getting more and more difficult to control the symptoms with medication, but the visual indicators had finally begun to show through. He was losing weight; his collarbone and ribs were too prominent against his skin when he inhaled and exhaled, although he had managed to retain a remarkable amount of muscle tone, considering his condition. His eyes were bloodshot and had purplish, bruise-like shadows underneath them, the ever-present stress lines on his face had deepened even further, and his skin had taken on an ashen, unhealthy tone.

Itachi lifted one hand, pressing the heel of his palm against his heart almost unconsciously. Not for the first time, he wondered whether things were progressing too fast. He hadn't received any intelligence that indicated Sasuke was any closer to coming for him, yet, and this was worrying. He had initially planned that Sasuke would attempt to pursue him sooner. This meant that he could not run the risk of succumbing to the illness for another two months, at the very least – he had to keep it at bay for that long, or his entire plan would unravel, and all the effort of the past several years would have been for nothing. The thought made him wince, but perversely enough, it also gave him enough strength to leave his room and slip into the deserted kitchen downstairs, in order to fix a couple of slices of toast and a cup of tea, before returning to the upstairs study, which neighbored Sakura's room. He sat, and forced himself to eat – he felt weak and hungry enough that the food should have appealed to him greatly, but every time he took a small bite of the toast, he was almost overwhelmed by nausea, and even the tea hardly worked to calm his nerves or his system.

The sickness was progressing, surely. And Itachi's lips twisted a little bitterly at the thought of telling it that it had to wait even longer before it could take him. He knew all too well that despite the fact he had managed it for three years beyond the expected prognosis, such things were beyond human control. In any case, at least one thing he had told Sakura last night had not been a lie…he would be reunited with his family very soon indeed.

Itachi closed his eyes briefly, shying away from thoughts of her, and the weight of the guilt he felt made his shoulders slump even further. It had been obvious why he had dreamed what he had. It would have been wiser, perhaps, to keep a distance between them, as he had done for the first several weeks of their acquaintance. But, oh, it was so much _easier _to do otherwise, and he wasn't proud of it in the least. He wasn't proud of how he had been…drawn in by her, almost, and hadn't had the strength or willpower to stay away. He had always prided himself on his iron-clad discipline and self-control, but they had failed him in this instance. More than anything else, even more than her striking, exotic looks, Sakura reminded him of home, and of before, and those were the last times in his life where he had ever been at peace, and even been happy. It was natural that she attract him, because of that, but he should have controlled it.

It was more difficult than he could have expected, though. Because Sakura didn't know any better, she thought of him, and interacted with him, as if…as if he was just a normal person, a _good _person, and a decent, honorable shinobi. When she was talking to him, he could pretend, for just a little while, that he _was _these things. It wasn't even entirely a conscious act of self-delusion. Sakura made him forget. There was just something about her that distracted him. When she was thoughtfully discussing why she liked or disliked some historical fiction novel or another, or explaining medical techniques that he had never fully grasped, or walking beside him as they traveled, or helping him cook dinner, there was just something inexplicable about her that made some of the ever-present guilt, restlessness, and sense of unease weigh less heavily on his shoulders.

Itachi sighed quietly, lifting his hot cup of tea and letting it rest against his forehead as he breathed in the fragrant steam. Admitting this within even the privacy of his own mind was difficult, because he knew that he didn't deserve even this tiny escape. He didn't deserve any of even the most mundane joys that life had to offer, when thirty members of his family had died at his own hands – but at the same time, it was nice, _so _undeniably nice, to be admired, liked, and trusted as a friend and teammate, by somebody who looked at him and didn't see a monster and a cold-blooded sociopath. Being with Sakura made him feel normal; gave him a taste of what life may have been like, if…it…had never happened, and even though this deviated horribly from the way of life he had adopted after his forced defection from Konoha, he enjoyed it. Interacting with her like this was wrong, and dishonest, and deceitful, and everything that normally disgusted him, but by now, he was in too deep, and he didn't think he could keep away from her if he tried – not that he even particularly wanted to…

The sudden knock on the door made a slight shudder of surprise run through his body, and Itachi turned just in time to see Kisame slipping through the door, looking like he was actually making an effort to stay quiet for once. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, nonplussed. It was unusual for his partner to be up this early, and even more so for him to seek him out like this. Normally Kisame ate in front of the stove, while making more food to eat ten minutes later. "Good morning, Kisame."

"Morning," Kisame managed in response, through his mouthful of toast and scrambled eggs, and he joined Itachi at the table, setting his food down and sighing loudly. "So, you ready for this?"

It took a moment for the query to register, and Itachi blinked. Kisame just gave him a startled look, swallowing his food too hastily. "You forgot?" he demanded. Then he belatedly shot a look at the neighboring wall, lowering his voice and leaning closer. "We're supposed to make a report back to the…Leader, today! That's why I'm up so early. Remember, we wanted to do it before sunrise so we could, uh, not disturb Sakura's beauty sleep or whatever."

That was just the excuse that he and Kisame had mutually agreed upon – neither of them particularly wanted to entertain the idea of what could happen if she walked in on their meeting with Madara. Itachi realized Kisame was right; he remembered thinking about this impending meeting sometime in the previous week, but between worrying about Sasuke, the events of the previous evening, his stressful night, and the continuous added strain of dealing with his illness, it had slipped his mind. It was highly uncharacteristic and irresponsible, and he closed his eyes tightly in a rare outward expression of frustration. Though he wasn't normally prone to such things, he had to fight back the urge to curse at himself. He should have been prepared. He was hardly in the proper condition to deal with Madara right now, but there was no avoiding it. Accurately reading his expression, Kisame gave him a subtly sympathetic look out of the corner of his eye, but he remained silent. They had no choice, after all, and they sat in complete silence, staring at the other side of the table.

The two of them felt it at the same time, and though Itachi knew that he should be accustomed to it by now, when the first sensation of the dark, heavily oppressive aura began to emerge in the room, it took a conscious effort for him to maintain his typical blank, inexpressive façade and not reveal the slightest sign of unease. In all his years as a shinobi, he had encountered thousands upon thousands of chakra types, but none of these had ever had as profound an impact on him as Madara's. It was choking, sinister, and frightening in its unnaturally immense power, and it expanded within the room, concentrating in the area across from them. Within a minute, the process was complete, and the projection faced them.

Itachi inclined his head a fraction of an inch in cool greeting, noticing that Madara had appeared to them under the guise of Tobi this time: he wore the typical Akatsuki cloak, and his face was hidden almost entirely by his swirling orange mask, making his body language several times more difficult to read. He had always disliked the advantage that the mask brought Madara; it allowed him to survey another person without being detected, while preventing others from doing the same to him. Still, Itachi looked him over as subtly as he could, his sharp gaze noting, to his dismay, that underneath the long, loose material of his cloak, Madara's limbs looked as strong as ever. There was no sign whatsoever of any wasting away, of any tiny sign of encroaching weakness due to his immense age, and underneath the table, one of the younger Uchiha's hands clenched into a fist.

Unlike when interacting with Pein, with Madara, there were no social pleasantries. He spoke first, in his typical low, almost serpentine hiss – startlingly different from the sickeningly upbeat, bubbly tone that _Tobi _favored. "Have the two of you succeeded in capturing the Four-Tails?"

"Not yet, Leader-sama," Kisame replied respectfully, inclining his head.

There was a heartbeat of silence, in which Madara appeared to glance from one of them to the other, and when he finally spoke, his tone was tinged with suspicion. "It has been over a month. Roshi should have been a vastly easier target to corner as he is a nomad and therefore not protected by the forces of an entire hidden village, like the host of the Kyuubi."

"Not necessarily," Itachi responded evenly, staring into the hypnotic swirls of the mask. He could feel the tension radiating off Kisame, and he understood what his partner was thinking. It was important that they diffuse Madara's suspicions in order to avoid any unwanted further inquiries. "…Roshi is aware that we are pursuing him. He travels alone and unencumbered, and has a large array of disguises and concealment genjutsu at his hands. He is also capable of speed that rivals ours, and he possesses a vast network of unknown contacts in remote locations that we have less knowledge of."

Even as he spoke, though Madara appeared to consider his words, Itachi had the uncomfortable feeling that the majority of the elder Uchiha's attention was focused elsewhere, and that he was scrutinizing him for symptoms of the sickness. The degenerative cardiovascular disease was hereditary to the Uchiha clan, after all, and both of them knew that once it had claimed Itachi, there would be nothing standing in the way of Madara making another devastating, potentially fatal, attack on Konoha. They were both counting the days, for entirely different reasons. The thought filled him with such intense mingled distaste, dread, and helplessness, that at first, when Madara opened his mouth to speak, it took Itachi a moment to redirect his attention to the elder Uchiha, and in that time, he almost missed the first words that came out of his mouth.

"Just to ensure that I understand you correctly," Madara commented slowly. "I would like to confirm that the Four-Tails is indeed not in your grasp."

He waited for a response, the orange swirls of his mask revealing nothing, and though Itachi felt his shoulders stiffen a little out of foreboding – even after so long, he could never be quite sure of Madara's reactions – he and Kisame both acquiesced quietly. And through the one miniscule eye hole in the mask, he saw Madara's left eye narrow, and Itachi had just enough time to feel the first stirrings of deep apprehension before his ancestor spoke, his tone dropping a few octaves, into something even more deadly and sinister. "Then what, exactly, does the amount of foreign chakra in the base belong to?"

The question hung in the air heavily, and supposedly it was just a figure of speech, but Itachi's heart actually skipped a beat, before resuming rather faster than before. He knew, of course, that an answer would be expected and hesitating before a reply would just make this look even more incriminating, but for some reason the only thing he could think of was that Sakura's chakra had been cloaked – all three of them kept it concealed out of force of habit, and Sakura had masked hers so thoroughly that even he and Kisame hadn't been able to sense a vestige of it. But Itachi kept his expression blank, even as he considered the situation rapidly. It would be dangerous to lie to Madara, of course, but at the same time, knowing him, it could very well be equally dangerous to let him know the truth…

Something distracted him from his contemplations – out of the corner of his eye, Itachi noticed Kisame's shoulders twitch slightly, obviously tensing up. And that was when he heard it. The tiniest of creaks on the floorboard outside.

Itachi felt his fingernails clenching into his palms as he realized what must have happened. Of course. Madara wasn't normally in the habit of concealing his chakra – yet another one of the many heavy-handed intimidation techniques he often relied on. The dark, suffocating, malignant chakra that would have seeped into the base as Madara completed his projection technique was something that Sakura wouldn't have been able to ignore. She was sensitive enough that it may have even woken her up from sleep. And even as his mind offered up these thoughts, they did little to distract him from the pang of very uncharacteristic dread that he felt as the floorboards gave another impossibly tiny creak. It was utterly unreasonable, but he found himself hoping fervently that Madara hadn't heard it—

But there was no such luck; Madara's head turned fractionally toward the door, and for a moment, Itachi felt gripped with a degree of fear – not for himself, but for _her _– that he hadn't felt since Sasuke had defected from Konoha and joined Orochimaru. Kisame seemed to have frozen beside him, but there was nothing that they could do, now.

The door cracked open, and Sakura stepped in. For a few moments that seemed impossibly long and strained, she stared at the three of them, her gaze focusing on Madara, and Itachi could tell how eerie and outlandish the masked outsider would seem, in her eyes. She was fully dressed, her hair slightly damp from the shower, and from this distance, he could tell that she had called just enough chakra to her hands to dispatch several rapid-fire medical ninjutsu if the occasion had called for it. But she remained still, and though Itachi hardly dared breathe, his entire body coiled and tense and ready to spring into action if the situation called for it…for his part, though, Madara just watched her motionlessly and silently, and Sakura finally inclined her head, taking a small step back. "I'm sorry for interrupting," she said formally. "I just sensed an unfamiliar chakra and wanted to investigate." Despite the composure of her tone, the fear, tension, and wariness in her frame and expression was obvious as she shot a last, subtle look at Madara over her shoulder and exited the room quickly, closing the door behind her.

The pink-haired kunoichi left a heavy, total silence in her wake, and with a somewhat detached sense of remoteness, Itachi heard her light, quick footfalls as she hurried through the hall and down the stairs. The disaster and immediate danger was averted, but he didn't allow himself to relax even a minute amount, as he redirected his gaze to somewhere approximately in the area of Madara's chin. Kisame looked as calm and still as a statue, but he was now breathing very shallowly. Madara watched them for several more moments, eyes narrowing into slits underneath his mask, before breaking the silence. "Sakura Haruno," he commented, an icy, harsh edge to his tone, and all of Itachi's futile hopes of Madara not recognizing her flew out of the window. "Sixteen. A-ranked Konoha kunoichi. Chunin. Apprentice to the Godaime Hokage…" he paused, just long enough for Itachi to realize, with a sinking sense of foreboding, what was coming next. "…Sole remaining teammate of Naruto Uzumaki, the host of the Nine-Tails."

He let the words sink in, and when Itachi and Kisame remained silent, he snapped, his fingers curling into fists, and the chakra in the room became even denser and darker. "Why is she here? What is the meaning of this? More importantly, why did you not inform me of this development immediately?"

"We apologize, Leader-sama," Kisame said quickly, bowing his head. "We ran across the girl while she was on her way back from a solo mission in Cloud, and we captured her because we knew she was the only person, besides the Hokage herself, who could heal Itachi's eyes. She's only been a hostage for a couple of days, but she has been highly cooperative, because she knows the alternative is death – her own, after her parents'."

It had been a brave attempt, and Itachi was grateful for his partner's quick response, but though Madara inclined his head a fraction of an inch, he had the subtle feeling that the elder Uchiha knew that Kisame was lying. In any case, though, he let that pass. "I am surprised at the two of you," he finally said, and Itachi's fingernails clenched even tighter into the palm of his hand. He could almost hear the scheming; the plans forming and taking shape in Madara's twisted, power-hungry mind. "I am surprised that you would fail to realize something so…elementary."

He paused, again, and even though part of Itachi knew what was coming, the order – delivered in the typically cold, clinical, ruthless fashion – still made his stomach turn.

"Use her as bait for the Kyuubi host. I expect results very soon – knowing his personality, despite any effort made to restrain him, the Uzumaki will not delay in responding and coming to you when he believes that the life of his precious teammate hangs in the balance."

Kisame acquiesced without missing a beat, as he knew he must, and Itachi was vaguely conscious of doing the same, his tone betraying nothing. After giving another order, that they report to him immediately as soon as any progress was made in the case of either the Four-Tails or the Nine-Tails, Madara vanished. His chakra began to dissipate, and within two minutes, his projection had faded away entirely. As they always did, Itachi and Kisame waited another two minutes before judging that it was safe to speak. The tension in the room was unbearable, even as Itachi reached for the handle of his now-cold cup of tea and curled his fingers into the handle in a white-knuckled grip, and Kisame stared at his partner uncertainly. "Itachi—"

Itachi's fingers just tightened further, so much that Kisame was surprised that the delicate porcelain didn't shatter. "I am not going to use Sakura as bait for anything," he said, and the quiet vehemence and uncharacteristic sharpness in his tone made his partner blink.

When Itachi turned his challenging gaze – his bloodline limit had flickered on, seemingly of its own accord – on him, Kisame lifted his hands defensively. "There's no need to give me that look, Uchiha. I wasn't even going to suggest it."

All the breath and accumulated tension left Itachi's body in a long sigh, and he reached up with one hand, raking his fingernails through his hair so hard that it hurt. His head was beginning to pound, and he had to fight the urge to shudder with frustration. As a lifelong pacifist, rage, hatred, and other violent emotions were typically something he shunned_. _Unlike many shinobi, he'd never held any personal hostility toward opponents. It hadn't been easy, but after a few years had passed, he had even found it within himself to forgive the Third Hokage for ordering the execution of his family, and giving him that fateful mission to carry out. Throughout the course of his life, despite the terrible things he had done – despite the many _hundreds _of people he had killed – there had only been three he had truly wanted to harm. Danzou. Orochimaru. And Madara.

Itachi took a deep breath, trying to stifle the pervasive, uncharacteristic thoughts that were coursing through his mind: of locking his fingers around Madara's throat and forcing every cubic inch of air out, until he could no longer perpetuate his evil upon the world. "I apologize," he said levelly. "Do you have any idea what we should do next?"

As he had no illusions about how dire their situation was, Kisame just shrugged, giving it some thought. "If we manage to hunt down the Four-Tails soon, that could appease Madara for a while…buy us some time, you know. That's the only thing I can think of."

It would be more difficult than it sounded, and even then, the issue of just how much borrowed time it would grant them was questionable. But there seemed to be no other alternative, and the two of them proceeded downstairs in grim silence, each lost in their own thoughts, and as soon as they arrived in the kitchen, Kisame muttered something about taking a shower and immediately headed toward his room. Itachi was suddenly all too conscious of being alone in the kitchen with Sakura, and as he still held his half-abandoned piece of toast from earlier, he had no choice but to sit for at least a few minutes as he choked it down. Whether it was the lingering memories of his dream, or the fact that he would likely be the one to field her questions about Madara, the prospect of spending some time with her was nowhere near as tempting as it usually was.

From her place perched on the edge of the kitchen table, nibbling on a slice of toast, Sakura just watched him, noting fact that Itachi looked somewhat more…ragged…than usual; an uncomfortable juxtaposition of tense and weary, and she couldn't help but wonder whether he happened to look like this because of the exchange she had inadvertently walked in on. But he offered no information, as he sat down at the table and began to eat in silence, and finally, her curiosity grew enough that she had to ask. After all, that person had been wearing the exact same black-and-red patterned cloak that Itachi and Kisame did, which had to mean they were affiliated in some way, right?

"So," she prodded tentatively, "who was it that you and Kisame were talking to earlier?"

Itachi glanced over at her and then away, and for some reason, there was a measure of hesitation in his voice before he answered her. "…Our leader."

Well, she hadn't been expecting _that. _His words made her blink, and Sakura lowered the piece of toast, finding that the last piece felt like it had turned to ash in her mouth. She forced herself to swallow over her dry throat, although her entire mind was consumed by the awful memory of what she had felt – had it been fifteen minutes ago? The creeping, crawling sense of horror was so fresh in her mind. She had been in the bathroom. Just came out of the shower, and it had been right when she was finishing brushing her teeth that she first felt the chakra presence building in the room right next to hers. It had actually freaked her out so badly that she had swallowed some toothpaste, stumbled against the counter, and bumped her hip hard. The chakra was different from Itachi and Kisame's; darker, even more unbelievably massive and powerful, and it had felt so menacing that it was like tendrils of it were sneaking through the wall and choking her. And then, everything changed… for a moment, there was a brief, strange flash of memory, and she wasn't even in the bathroom anymore. There was a forest, and an unnaturally pale man with a sneer on his face and long sheets of black hair, and worst of all, he was surrounded by snakes, and she was in front of him, and she was afraid…

The vision, or memory, or flashback – whatever it had been – had disappeared as quickly as it came on, and she hadn't even spared a moment to think about it or analyze it further. This chakra was dangerous; evil, like the man in the forest, and there could be no good reason for it materializing in their base, so naturally, she had wanted to investigate.

When she had entered the study, she'd been surprised, of course, to find…the source of the chakra…just sitting across from Itachi and Kisame, for all intents and purposes looking like they were carrying on a civil conversation. The fact that they obviously trusted him should have made her relax a little, but at that close distance, feeling the nightmarish chakra swirling around her, threatening to engulf her with its suffocating power – it had been terrible. The appearance of the man itself was almost as bad. Sakura knew it was irrational to be so unnerved by it, as technically, his face had been entirely covered by that strange, swirling orange mask, but it was the mask itself that bothered her. And as he had turned his head toward her, she had a creeping sort of premonition that whatever he was thinking hadn't been good at all. So, convinced that Itachi and Kisame had it under control, she had gotten the hell out of there.

And _that _was their leader? The person that Itachi, Kisame, and indirectly, she herself, worked for? _That _was their boss? The thought didn't sit well with her at all. Actually, it was downright nerve-wracking.

Sakura had to clear her throat a couple of times before she trusted herself to speak. Itachi was still eating, staring intently at his toast and apparently unaware of her agitation. "So…uh…did he want a status update on Roshi?" she asked cautiously.

Itachi inclined his head a fraction of an inch, and though she could tell he wasn't in one of his more talkative moods, Sakura felt antsy all of a sudden, like she couldn't just let this slide until whenever Kisame got out of the shower. She felt stupid, but she had never thought of this before. Itachi hadn't been specific when he explained it to her in the first place, so she had always just assumed that this leader wanted Roshi tracked down and brought to him because of a business disagreement that needed to be sorted out, or something like that. Like Roshi had run away with the leader's money or scammed him in some way or another and the leader wanted his money back. Why else would one grown man want another hunted down like an animal and brought to him?

Now, for some reason, after seeing this leader person, she doubted that his intentions were quite so mundane. Or, even if that _was _the reason, that monetary re-compensation was all the man was after.

Sakura took a deep breath, hesitated for a moment, and then decided that she had nothing to lose by asking. "Itachi? You and Kisame never explicitly mentioned it, so…why, um, does this leader exactly want Roshi in the first place? What exactly is he going to do with him, once we track him down and take him back to Rain?"

Although she had spoken audibly enough, Itachi showed no sign of response as he finished off his toast and rose from the table, heading toward the sink. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Sakura noticed that he wouldn't even meet her gaze, and without thinking twice about it, she slid off the table and followed him. "Well?" she asked doggedly.

Itachi remained silent under the weight of her gaze for several agonizingly long moments while rinsing the plate off and setting it to dry. "I am not entirely sure," he finally said, after he turned to find her still staring at him uncompromisingly, arms crossed over her chest.

But his voice was quiet and he still wouldn't entirely look her in the eye as he said it, and she couldn't tell whether that meant he was lying or whether he was just ashamed that he didn't know. Even though Itachi moved to walk past her, Sakura ignored the mounting apprehension that she felt and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn and look at her. "Look," she said, her voice rising, despite her efforts to stay calm and not immediately jump to the most gruesome conclusion. "This isn't…this isn't right! We can't just go and hunt down and capture somebody without even knowing the reason why! Do you even know what your leader is going to do to Roshi if we take him back to Rain?"

Itachi didn't respond to this, only gently withdrawing his arm from her grip, and Sakura swore under her breath, turning away from him angrily and stalking toward the opposite kitchen counter. Maybe Kisame would be more forthcoming, though she doubted it. And although she had woken up feeling fine, her stomach was now threatening to rebel against the toast she had just eaten, and her head was aching, and she was just sickened by the prospect that maybe the three of them were involved in something…nefarious, in some way. Maybe she was overthinking things, maybe she was jumping to conclusions, and she normally wasn't this emotional, but the feeling that had swept over her when the masked man had looked her over…it was as if somebody had just walked over her grave. It literally sent chills down her spine and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Instinct told her that there was something wrong with him. Something like the darkness of his chakra; something vengeful and hateful. She couldn't continue attempting to lead Roshi – who was just an old, retired shinobi, after all – to him. Even if this was just a financial matter gone sour, she had the feeling that Roshi's encounter with the masked man wouldn't end well for him. Maybe that was why he was trying so very hard to escape detection. Maybe he had more to lose than the contents of his bank account.

"Sakura."

Itachi's quiet voice broke her out of her thoughts, and Sakura turned sharply, wondering whether he was ready to disclose anything. But he just hovered near the doorway, looking like he wanted to come closer but was restraining himself, and the expression in his eyes, as he met her gaze, was more serious than she had ever seen it. "Do you trust me?"

The question took her off guard, and she blinked at the apparent non sequitur. "Of course," she replied honestly.

A strange expression flickered over Itachi's face briefly, and he looked away, speaking to a corner of the kitchen. "…Then you will understand that it is of utmost importance that we find Roshi as soon as possible."

The words were cautious and guarded, but urgent somehow, like he was willing her to understand, and Itachi looked back at her like he wanted to say more. But he obviously thought better of it and turned and walked away abruptly, leaving Sakura staring after him, feeling more worried than she had in weeks.

* * *

They had resumed the search in the evening. Both Itachi and Kisame's determination and motivation seemed even more intense than it had previously, somehow. Of course, she hadn't failed to notice that this change in attitude had happened right after their conversation with the _leader, _and Sakura scowled to herself. She had been reluctant to begin today, considering all the worried thoughts and dark speculations that had been racing through her mind since the morning, but while they were preparing to execute their transportation technique and leave to where Roshi had been seen last, Itachi's hand had brushed against hers. The touch had been so light and fleeting that she could have sworn it was accidental, except she knew that Itachi didn't do anything by accident. He was purposely reminding her of their last conversation, and she had jerked her hand away and then 'accidentally' stepped on his foot a few moments later. Perhaps not the most mature thing to do, but Sakura could tell that he wasn't being entirely honest with her – which was what he should do with a friend and teammate, and she didn't know why the thought of him hiding things from her caused her such an irrational amount of consternation.

This was what she knew. The leader of Itachi and Kisame's organization was definitely somebody that she was wary of. The fact that Itachi and Kisame worked for him with no obvious compunction only set her mind at ease a minute amount. And, as Itachi had claimed, it was very important that they follow the leader's orders and track down Roshi as soon as possible. Why, she wasn't sure. The masked man hadn't struck her as the type to wait calmly and patiently for his orders to be fulfilled, but Sakura had the feeling that maybe this went deeper than Itachi and Kisame getting paid reduced fees for taking too long to find Roshi. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, frustrated, and narrowly avoided getting her foot tangled in a vine and falling down face-first. Not for the first time, Sakura felt an intense wave of self-resentment for not being fast enough or skilled enough to defeat whatever Cloud shinobi had unleashed the jutsu that had apparently led to her memory loss. Maybe she had known more about this complex situation, once. _Having a personal history that's been more or less completely erased definitely has its drawbacks, _she thought sarcastically.

Thankfully, before she could descend into a real fit of self-pity, her train of thought was interrupted – all of a sudden, several feet in front of her, in the middle of the glade, Itachi stopped dead. Out of instinct, she and Kisame followed suit immediately, and Sakura directed a questioning, wary glance at him. As gentle and unassuming as Itachi was normally, during their downtime, it was strange to see him like this, standing tense and stock-still, not moving a muscle, the pupils of his eyes swirling a hypnotic scarlet as he looked around slowly, almost wolf-like. It was almost frightening, really. Though she knew better, seeing him like this made her feel tense and wary as well, and she spared a moment to feel gratitude for the fact that they were on the same side. In the split second that it took her to make the observation, Kisame stiffened up as well, his hand going to the hilt of the massive sword strapped across his back, which was now starting to quiver. It sensed foreign chakra. Of course. How many times had Kisame bragged to her about its otherworldly senses, and how other shinobi could never sneak up on him, no matter how thoroughly their chakra was concealed?

"Mercenaries," Itachi said, very quietly, his lips barely moving as he continued to survey the area. "Nine of them, with strong chakra reserves, and heavily armed, likely contracted by Roshi himself. We are nearly surrounded, but the three shinobi attempting to block off the east have slightly weaker chakra reserves than the others – we have a better chance of escape if we head in that direction and make it past them."

Now that he had pointed it out, when she tried hard, she could sense the presences around them as well, watching and waiting. Adrenaline made her heart beat a little faster, and Sakura looked toward Itachi, waiting for instruction, even as she wiped her palms on the material of her fitted black pants, summoning chakra to the surface of her palms. She was struck with the feeling that perhaps she should feel more afraid, perhaps, than she was now, but she was a decent combatant in her own right (her medical textbooks had mentioned that medical ninjutsu were always valuable assets in a fight, because they were far more rare than other forms of offensive ninjutsu), and besides, Itachi and Kisame were both deadly and powerful in their own way, enough to counteract the advantage in numbers that their opponents had. But then she remembered what Itachi had said about their last encounter with rival shinobi, and how at least one member of the Cloud team had managed to get the upper hand on her, and she winced at the memory.

"Are we going to take the way out, or stay and fight?" Sakura asked softly, her gaze jumping from one corner of the glade to the other. Vines and tree branches that had looked so lovely earlier now seemed treacherous, each affording a vast arsenal of potential hiding places for a genjutsu-concealed opponent. As ridiculous as it was, part of her wanted to stay, and to fight well enough to compensate, somehow, for the incompetence that had gotten her this damned fit of memory loss in the first place.

Kisame scoffed under his breath, looking around just as restlessly. "I say we stay and fight," he responded. "If we try and escape, it's pointless. We'll just be chased. We can handle these guys, no problem."

Itachi paused momentarily to consider their options, his gaze flickering from Kisame, who looked eager, predictably enough, to Sakura, who appeared a strange mix of determined and apprehensive. He disliked the idea of letting this escalate into a confrontation, but if they ran, he had no idea how fast their pursuers would come after them. All nine had strong chakra reserves, after all, and considering that they would probably have to split up if they ran… Sakura was the slowest out of the three of them, and there was a very real possibility that she might be caught and interrogated for information. The thought was unacceptable, but there was no time to debate it further. As the wheels of his bloodline limit continued spinning, he could sense the mercenaries approaching closer, beginning to take their positions and prepare for the attack. They had a mere few moments to spare.

"We will fight," he told them, in a low voice. "They have spread out in a circle around us. The primary attacks appear to be weapons-based. Judging from the concentrations of chakra within each person, expect to face taijutsu techniques as well. Kisame, yours may use genjutsu. They will aim for all of us at once. The initial attack should come by the time I finish this sentence."

Sakura had maybe half a second to spare to wonder how he could possibly judge that, before the first kunai was thrown, narrowly missing her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw three heavily armed, masked mercenaries converge on Kisame, four surrounding Itachi, and then, before she could even blink, three appeared out of nowhere and landed in a circle around her, caging her in. She realized that each group of mercenaries had landed so that they had split her, Kisame, and Itachi apart, forcing each of them to fend for themselves. It felt like time stopped for an instant – she registered that they all had weapons drawn, and they were moving closer, driving her deeper into the glade and away from the others and for just a split second, there was panic because she didn't know what to do and whom to aim the offensive ninjutsu at first, and then—

Instinct took over, and Sakura leaped forward with speed she didn't know she was capable of, narrowly dodging a stab to the side and lashing out at the closest mercenary with a fist. Part of her mind was raving, terrified and enraged, asking her what she was thinking by initiating a physical attack like this and what kind of damage that _she_, a sixteen-year-old, hundred-and-five pound girl, could generate with a simple punch, but she did it anyway, sure that it would work for some insane reason; drawing her fist back and connecting it to the man's jaw with all the force she could muster.

And he _flew _back. Not stumbled slightly, not staggered back a step, but behind the mask, his eyes widened, his neck twisted at a strange angle, all the vertebrae in his neck cracked audibly, and he was lifted off his feet, and sent flying at least ten feet backward before he collided with a tree. Sakura stopped dead, stunned, and around her, she saw the man's teammates falter before approaching, now on their guard.

What the hellhad that been? What had she done? She had summoned chakra to her hands for a medical ninjutsu, but upon the rapid, impulsive decision to punch, it had been redirected, with amazing consequences. How did it work? How had she done it? And more importantly, would it work again?

Sakura whirled around, eyeing the two remaining mercenaries. One flickered out of view and appeared behind her, obviously intending to aim for her defenseless back. It wasn't a strategically sound situation, but there was no choice. She turned to face him, and saw the kunai plunging toward her chest. She acted as fast as she could, bringing chakra to her hands again and grabbing his forearm arm in an iron-strong grip, twisting it around quickly and forcing it behind his back at an unnatural angle, before pushing three fingers into the back of his neck. He collapsed in a heap, but then there was a crushing impact – a hard kick, reinforced by a heavy boot – in the middle of her back, knocking her face first onto the dirt floor and driving all the breath from her body.

The dirt tasted disgusting in her mouth and she wasn't sure if her lip was bleeding, but Sakura hastily rolled over and stumbled upright, in time to see the largest, remaining man advancing on her, a long dagger clutched in his grip. She struggled to ascertain the situation as quickly as possible – she didn't like the idea of fighting weapons users hand-to-hand, and he was so tall and strong-looking, almost rivaling Kisame, that she would rather not take her chances in close combat. Being at the receiving end of one blow to the head or face would put her down and out. "Akatsuki," he breathed, and irrationally, a thrill of heavy foreboding, quite unrelated to the situation that she found herself in, swept over her. "Interesting…you're not in any of the bingo books. Our client didn't even know that you were part of the team pursuing him. But I can see why they'd want you, with that freak ability of yours."

He lunged for her then, but she was already up and running, toward the other end of the glade. She had seen the shuriken and kunai that he had up his sleeve, and she'd rather deal with him once he had exhausted those in long-range combat, so then, in a moment of distraction, she could hit him with a medical ninjutsu. Predictably enough, one of the shuriken whirred past her then, thudding into a tree nearby. Cover. She had to find cover. She narrowly avoided slipping in a pool of blood and tripping over a dismembered arm – Kisame's work – and even now, her stomach turned out of outright revulsion. Three more shuriken just barely missed her. The mercenary would only have two more before he'd have to stop, think, and revaluate how to chase her down with the dagger, and she could strike then. She changed direction sharply, heading toward where she had last seen Itachi. For an instant, her attention was diverted from her own plight. He had been surrounded by four people, and regardless of her opinions of his abilities, still…

She sensed his presence nearby, and she finally broke through a tangle of vines, catching sight of him. Three of Itachi's opponents faced him, looking bruised and exhausted, even though Itachi himself looked like he hadn't lifted a finger or moved to even pull out any of his weapons. Sakura stopped, partially out of curiosity, as she felt the chakra level in the glade spike dramatically, almost to the point where it was suffocating. Itachi remained motionless, but the black-and-crimson wheels in his eyes began to spin once again, and in the next second, all three shinobi collapsed like puppets with the strings cut out from under them, their mouths slack and their sightless, wide eyes staring up at the sky. It was too unsettling for words, and Sakura snapped out of her reverie just in time to doge the kunai that would have caught her in the back. She spun around, getting a visual fix on the blurred form of her opponent and the angle of the weapon he carried, the potential trajectory and speed of travel. This was the last he carried, and when she dodged, she'd have just enough time to execute the medical ninjutsu and disable him.

As if in slow motion, she saw his fingers relax on the handle of the weapon, and it flew toward her. She moved to the side, her hands forming the rapid sequence of complex seals, and—

A solid weight slammed into her from the side, knocking her to the floor with enough force to drive the breath from her body, for the second time in as many minutes. For a moment, Sakura was disoriented from the rough landing, but she saw the mercenary crumble to the ground in an unconscious heap, his arms and legs twitching erratically. Her vision blacked out for a second in response to the strain and the second hit to the head, but she shook her head hard, trying to push herself up into a sitting position. She blinked, confused by all the black and red that dominated her field of vision, and the weight that still pinned her down. She felt his unsteady breathing against her cheek, and the tickle of his hair against her neck. "…Itachi?"

"I apologize," he said hoarsely, as he rose, lifting her up with one hand as he did so. "I did not intend to…"

Itachi trailed off then, distracted by the steady dripping sound he heard, and both his and Sakura's startled gazes dropped to the source. She reacted first, her eyes widening as she took in the steadily widening bloodstain spreading across the black material of his shirt and Akatsuki cloak in the area of his upper arm. From what she guessed, the kunai must have sliced through muscle and an artery to create such profuse bleeding—

Sakura moved rapidly and on autopilot, remembering every passage from her medical textbooks that had instructed her on what to do in a situation like this. This was the first real opportunity she'd had to prove her capabilities as a medic, and she had to do it well. The alternative was unthinkable, and she couldn't allow herself to lose focus by freaking out over the fact that Itachi had injured himself like this in an attempt to get her out of harm's way. She grabbed a roll of bandages from her bag and wrapped it around the wound as fast and tightly as she could in order to prevent excess blood loss, and for his part, Itachi remained surprisingly calm through the process, although she could feel the occasional shudder of pain run through his body as she gripped his arm. The fabric of his clothing would have gotten into the open wound, and that would only make him more uncomfortable. "You need immediate treatment," she told him composedly. "I'm taking you back to the base because this environment isn't nearly sterile enough for my work. Kisame will be able to pick up my chakra and realize we've headed back once he's finished interrogating the others, or whatever he's doing now."

Itachi inclined his head, taking all of it in with remarkable calmness. "I can—"

"Not in your condition." She took hold of his good arm, pulling it around her shoulders, and after a moment of intense concentration and gritting her eyes shut so hard that they hurt, stretching her chakra reserves to the limits, they materialized in the upstairs hallway of the base, in front of Itachi's room. The sensation was as draining as ever, and she lost her balance for an instant, catching herself against the wall.

Even now, with his arm bleeding copiously, he still sent her a worried look, and Sakura nodded impatiently, preempting his inquiry with one of her own. "It's fine. How are you doing? Where are your keys?"

"I am fairly well, under the circumstances," Itachi replied, with the vaguest trace of dry humor, as he used his good hand to reach into his pocket, withdrawing a small silver key and handing it to her.

Sakura made a face at him as she unlocked the door, even as she marveled at the fact that he could handle the agony with such effortless composure. Aside from a little extra strain in his voice and tension in his shoulders, he hardly showed that he was in pain at all. It made her wonder how much worse he had been hurt in the past, if he could handle this like a comparatively minor scratch, and for some reason, the thought made her flinch. The door swung open then, and she led him in, and even though the overwhelming majority of her mind was focused on the impending healing, part of her still felt a tiny twinge of nervousness as she shut the door and locked it behind them. Itachi headed straight for the edge of his bed and sat down on it dutifully, as if waiting for further instruction, and despite her best efforts to remain professional, Sakura glanced around the room involuntarily on her way to join him. Regardless of their friendship, Itachi was a very private person, and she had often wondered what personal mementos he had in his room; perhaps photographs of his family. Surprisingly enough, there were none – aside from the basics of a bookshelf, bed, and dresser, the room was bare, and the décor sparsely neutral, though unmistakably masculine.

"Alright," she said, almost to herself, as she gingerly sat down next to him on the bed, eyeing the bandage. Itachi looked somewhat wary, and it was probably best to talk him through this. "First I'm going to temporarily stem the flow of blood, which will let me take off the bandage so your cloak and shirt can be removed. Then I can start work on the wound itself."

Any residual worries she may have had about performing the tricky first stage of this healing competently vanished as soon as she laid her chakra-covered hands on the bandage. Instantaneously, Sakura felt the skin underneath pull, shift, and change shape, as the blood clotted. "That should do it for now," she said, satisfied, as she tugged the bandage free. "Now…" she looked up at him, to find him staring down at her. "I think I'll have to remove your outer layers of clothing," she continued, sounding as formal and professional as she could manage, while redirecting her gaze to her hands and hoping fervently that she wasn't blushing or anything.

It was a small consolation to hear that Itachi sounded almost as stiff and uncomfortable as she felt, as he stood up. "I believe that I can manage…"

"No, you probably shouldn't move that arm any more than absolutely necessary," Sakura replied, still trying to sound as detached as possible, while very much wishing that it was Kisame who had been injured instead, and feeling more than a little bit guilty about it. She slid off the bed and stood in front of him, focusing on the movement of her fingers as she worked to unclasp the silver fastening of his cloak. Itachi stood still, his arms hanging loosely by his sides, and for once, she was grateful for how ridiculously short she was, compared to him; her eyes were only on level with his collarbone, which prevented any eye contact to make this entire episode even more awkward. Finally, she managed to unfasten and tug the cloak off, and after haphazardly folding it and depositing it on the bed, Sakura turned, eyeing the long-sleeved dark shirt Itachi wore underneath with some amount of trepidation. It would be hard to get it off without jarring his injured arm too much. Fingers under the hem, pull upwards… She never thought that she'd ever be internally debating on how best to undress Itachi.

"Perhaps it would be best for me to sit," he commented, as if reading her mind.

This, unfortunately, put them on eye level. Itachi looked rather stoic, although slightly flushed, and Sakura grimaced, figuring that perhaps it would be best to go in for the kill as quickly as possible.

She did so without dithering for another moment, moving nearly as fast as she had in the clearing, and she had halfway extricated Itachi from the shirt, trying not to pay any attention to the warm, defined muscles and skin underneath her hands, when she felt him shudder deeply, gritting his teeth together to prevent any sound from escaping. His face was more or less hidden by fabric, and Sakura dropped her handfuls of shirt and pulled chakra to her palms, alarmed. "Did the cut open back up? Is everything all right?"

"Yes," he responded, his tone muffled by the shirt. "…Your hands are cold."

Sakura rolled her eyes at his head and pulled the shirt the rest of the way off over his head, revealing a rather tousled-looking Itachi. She sat down next to him again, leveling her gaze on the injured arm immediately, refusing to let herself be distracted. It was a deep, ugly slash, with fibers from his clothing sticking to it, but before she could really spend even a few seconds thinking about everything she'd have to do in what logical order, her chakra-covered hands were moving seemingly of their own accord, tending to the wound; cleaning it out, repairing split blood vessels, and re-knitting muscle fiber. It felt, as using medical chakra often did, as though it were second nature; as though she had done it millions of times before, and it was so much a part of her that an injury couldn't take it away. There was something to be said for the power of subconscious memory, apparently. She was grateful that these abilities had been preserved, but that didn't change the fact that she wished other memories – especially that of her parents – had survived as well.

After a while, when the worst of the work was mostly done, Sakura felt relaxed and comfortable enough to speak, breaking the hushed silence that had fallen over them. "You didn't have to take the kunai for me, you know," she told him softly, sealing the torn skin completely and beginning to erase the scar. "I saw it coming and would have moved in time. Even if I hadn't gotten completely out of the way, still, I could have taken it myself…"

Itachi remained motionless for so long that she thought he hadn't been paying attention, before he gave her a tiny, almost self-conscious shrug. "You've been through enough," he mumbled quietly.

His voice was so indistinct that it took her a second to comprehend what he had said, and though his meaning momentarily puzzled her, Sakura couldn't help but smile when she understood, pausing in her healing to rub her free hand in a small circle over his right shoulder blade. Itachi's muscles almost seemed to tremble underneath her touch, although that was probably another reaction to her cold hands. "That's really sweet," she said sincerely, touched by the sentiment. "Thank you."

She made the scar vanish entirely with another sweep of her hand, and sat back to survey her work, pleased. Itachi reached up and touched the area where the slash had been almost wonderingly, before stretching his arm out, testing the range of movement. His barely audible sigh of relief made her smile again, and he turned to her, the somewhat softer expression on his face undeniably happy, as Itachi emotions went. "I should be the one thanking you."

Sakura shrugged one shoulder and stared at the carpeted floor, embarrassed. Where with Kisame, she would have probably taken this statement and run with it, forcing him to express his gratitude by embracing a vegetarian diet for a week, the dynamic was undeniably different with Itachi. _Shirtless _Itachi, while also sitting in his bed, her mind added quickly. "Anytime," she managed, gathering all her courage and looking him in the eye. "And…I really appreciate that you cared enough about me to do what you did."

Itachi's hands gave a telltale twitch, like he was thinking about moving them, but he seemed to change his mind at the last moment, and kept them folded in his lap. Part of her was wondering why she'd even said it and already expecting the reply that he (or she) would have done the same for Kisame, and vice versa, because they were just teammates and that's how they looked out for one another, but nothing came, and Sakura didn't know whether she was just being stupid and reading too much into the lack of response, and to make matters worse, she didn't think she could just sit here, next to him, for any longer without being even more tempted to do anything untoward like _hug _him or anything… Still, the same reckless part of her wanted her to stay here, and maybe even to hug him, just to see what would happen—

Sakura rose a little awkwardly, brushing nonexistent specks of dust off her pants. "Well, I'm going to go and rest for a while," she said, out of the blue, unnerved beyond belief at where her train of thought had been going and how uncharacteristically forward this new, errant inner voice was. It was almost as if it was expressing the thoughts and emotions that she didn't even consciously allow herself to feel. "The fight was kind of rough." _Come on, _the voice said now, _try and stop me. _

But Itachi didn't. He sat quietly for a moment before rising and walking her out, thanking her once again for the healing, and touching the small of her back so fleetingly that it could have been an accident. She escaped to her own room, halfheartedly wondering where Kisame was, before shutting the door behind her and crawling into bed, curling up in a ball, without even pulling her boots off first. Despite the exhaustion of the day's events, her mind kept whirring relentlessly. There was the very strange matter of what had happened when she had punched the mercenary in the glade – a display of freakish, unnatural strength that she had never even seen her teammates display. Not to mention the admittedly irrational, but still lingering, sense of unease she had felt when her attacker had spat that word at her with such hatred. _Akatsuki._

All that was stressful and perplexing enough on its own, but then she remembered the conversation she and Itachi had had the previous night in the kitchen while making dinner, and today…she had been certain that he, the perfect shinobi, who could accurately judge just about anybody's capabilities, had known that she was competent enough to avoid the attack. Undoubtedly, with his bloodline limit, he would also have been able to sense that she had been in the midst of executing a crippling medical ninjutsu already. Maybe, if Itachi had spared an instant to look, he would have noticed that her muscles were tensed and she was already in the process of evading the strike. And yet, his first instinct was to protect her from the attack anyway, even though it meant being injured himself.

The concept was so outlandish that she didn't even want to entertain it. It made her feel like a fool. It was just too ridiculous. Since she and Itachi had initially gotten close, it had become clear that he did enjoy her company, just as she enjoyed his. But considering the events of the past couple of days, namely, what had just happened, was there…something more? Did he perhaps care for her more than was expected and normal for one teammate to feel for another? She certainly _felt _a difference in their interactions now than there had been in earlier weeks. The shift was hard to describe in words, but tangible nevertheless. Where were things going between them, exactly? She had no idea whether this was his way of expressing interest in her or something, and even if it was, what should she do about it? There was no point denying it any longer – if, hypothetically, Itachi _was _perhaps interested in something more, she wouldn't refuse. Stating it like that made her sound indifferent to the idea (_like you haven't actively wanted it and thought about it yourself, _the stupid inner voice scoffed) but she was anything but. Itachi was…well, as embarrassed as it made her to admit it, he was everything that she would want in a partner. He was truly, genuinely kind, gentle, considerate, and respectful, which were all important qualities to look for. She felt comfortable around him, like something just _clicked _between them. She enjoyed their friendship and interactions, and yet, she wanted to get to know him better… The only thing that kept her from expressing any visible interest was the fact that actively pursuing Itachi would be completely inappropriate, considering their situation. It wasn't the right place or time for flirtation.

Sakura gave a muffled sigh of frustration, burying her face into her pillow. Whatever. She was getting ahead of herself, and just being oversensitive and reading too much into things, and quite frankly, she was disappointed in herself for it – for being such an unprofessional, cliché teenage girl and romantically speculating about the gentle, attractive guy who she _worked _with. They were teammates, and they were on a _mission, _for the kami's sake. Furthermore, she doubted that she'd had any confused feelings like this for Itachi before her injury; her mind was probably just messed up because of the emotional side effects of the amnesia, and from the recent shock of re-discovering that she had no family and was more alone in this world than she had initially believed. Itachi was just a really nice guy. All of her wild speculation aside, the cold, hard truth was that he had never actually done anything concrete to make her think that he was, in fact, interested in her. They were just friends and teammates. Nothing more.

* * *

Things returned to normal in the next few days. There was no excessive alone time or charged interaction, although to Sakura's displeasure, the damage had been done. She was conscious of Itachi's presence now in a way that she never had been before, and it was frustrating beyond belief – she had enjoyed their friendship enough before all these additional thoughts and curiosities about what something more would be like, had come into the picture. They were distracting, and unnecessary.

Sakura sighed moodily, standing on the tips of her toes to withdraw the large ice pack from the freezer, before turning around, propping the ice pack against the refrigerator door, and leaning against it. The pricks of cold through her loose pink t-shirt numbed the deep, perpetual ache in her upper back muscles that had formed since the mercenary had kicked her so hard during the same fight that had wounded Itachi. The fact that she'd had to deal with the physical pain as well as the unwanted thoughts probably hadn't done anything to improve her mood, as both had been keeping her up at nights. She stared out the kitchen window at the abnormally large, cold silver full moon blankly, lost in thought, until she heard a soft creak on the nearby stairs. She turned just in time to see Itachi emerge into the kitchen, looking weary and somehow more pale than usual, and she immediately noticed the clear orange bottle that he held tightly in one fist. He paused for just a fraction of a second when he saw her, and seemingly casually, he slipped the bottle – easily recognizable as a prescription bottle – into his pocket. The sight piqued her curiosity, and Sakura decided it would be best to abandon the social pleasantries. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Itachi said vaguely. "I just wanted a glass of water." He looked her over, nonplussed. "…What are you doing?"

"Icing my back," Sakura replied dryly, noting his evasive response to her question and filing it away to be addressed and further investigated later, before moving aside in order to allow him access to the cold water inside the refrigerator. "You know, we have got to stop running into each other like this."

Itachi gave her a wryly amused look as he downed his large glass of water in one go, and Sakura watched the movement of his throat as he gulped each sip down. She could think of three categories of medication that had increased thirst as a side effect. "What is the matter with your back?" he asked, once he had finished.

Sakura winced, sliding the ice pack higher. "I got kicked there in the fight last week by a guy wearing steel-toed boots, hard enough to send me flying."

"Ah." Itachi paused, obviously confused by her statement, started to say something, and then stopped again, looking like he was deciding how to phrase his words smoothly. "I do not mean to offend, but you are a medic, so why have you not just…"

He trailed off, and Sakura nodded, understanding what he meant. "Don't worry, it's a common misconception about the field. That's the one largest weakness of medical chakra. We can't heal what we can't touch. And I can't exactly get a good enough grip on my own back to heal the muscles, because most people's arms don't bend that way."

Itachi nodded seriously, and Sakura took the opportunity to re-adjust her ice pack, before closing her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, and leaning against the refrigerator again.

"I can help with that."

Sakura's eyes snapped open, and she looked back at her teammate, surprised. If she wasn't mistaken, Itachi – who was now staring at a corner of the tiled floor as if unable to believe his own audacity – had just offered to give her a back massage. The first question that crossed her mind was whether he had really just offered that. The second was whether it was appropriate or not, and whether it was one of those situations where she should acknowledge that it was a nice offer, but then politely demur and then go about her own business. This question lingered in her mind for longer, but her back gave another painful twinge as she inhaled again, and the pink-haired medic remembered how many times since the night of the confrontation that she had stretched out uncomfortably in bed, longing for a spa-worthy massage to ease her hopelessly bruised, sore muscles. That answered the question, really, and Sakura un-pressed herself from against the ice pack, sticking it back in the freezer. "That would be _amazing_," she said, with feeling, and smiled, hoping that would set him at ease a little. "Lead the way."

Itachi did, and she followed him upstairs and to his bedroom, and this time, when Sakura took a brief glance around the dimly lit room as he closed the door behind them, she didn't search for photographs and personal mementos, but rather for more of the orange prescription bottles. She hadn't noticed this last time she had been in here, but there was a vaguely chemical-like scent that hung in the air; the distinctive scent of hard pharmaceutical drugs. He had to have more bottles in here (_why _was the pressing question, making the muscles in her back tense up even more), but here were none in plain sight, though – all of them probably secured in the dresser drawers – and she blushed, realizing that he had caught her scrutinizing the area. "I like what you've done with the bamboo lampshade," she offered lamely, and Itachi inclined his head slowly, clearly unsure whether to believe her or not. He indicated his bed somewhat awkwardly, and feeling rather more self-conscious now than she had anticipated earlier, Sakura headed towards it, placing first one knee onto it and then the other, feeling the hard mattress give beneath her, and then slowly lowering herself to settle facedown on the bed, her cheekbone resting just below Itachi's pillow. The sand-colored blankets that she was pressed so intimately against smelled like him; like pine and spearmint and fire, and she breathed in deeply.

The bedsprings creaked ever so slightly and the mattress dipped another few inches as Itachi joined her, kneeling by her side. Feeling somewhat apprehensive, Sakura spared a moment to think that her longing dreams of spa-worthy back massages had all involved her lying topless on a nice, padded table, outdoors, facing the ocean, with the air perfumed by fragrant tropical blossoms and the scent of the rich, softly heated oil that she would be slowly, meticulously rubbed down with. This was hardly the same at all. The atmosphere was as different as could be, there was no oil, she was wearing clothes…and Itachi was her masseuse. For some reason, her mind threw Itachi into her first scenario, so he was the one touching her like that; rubbing his strong hands against her bare skin, and Sakura shifted against the blankets unconsciously, gripping small handfuls of the fabric in her fists.

But then she felt the weight of his hands descend on her, and any thought of the experience _not _being good enough disappeared. For about one second. Then… "Ow." It was a struggle to talk around the blankets. Her lungs felt compressed. "Itachi! You're squishing me."

The pressure and warmth abruptly disappeared, and Itachi apologized, sounding absolutely mortified. "It's okay," Sakura mumbled, trying to inhale deeply and re-fill her lungs with air. "You don't know your own strength. But if you do it again, I'm squishing you and you can see how you like it."

He resumed, pressing down on her back and gently kneading the injured muscles much more carefully this time, and all the breath left her body in a long sigh. Sakura's eyes slipped shut, a soft sound escaping her throat as his hands glided over one of the particularly sore pressure points, and Itachi felt her back relax and unclench a little more with every minute that passed. He was no professional, of course – he was just doing things that he would have found soothing if he were in a similar circumstance. It was undeniably strange, but still pleasing, somehow, to realize that she trusted him enough to let him do this, and that she was actually deriving some pleasure from the treatment. Sakura was very tense, and through the careful, subtle direction of a trace amount of medical chakra to his palms, he could feel the several tears in her muscles caused by the kick. With a few pulses of stronger chakra, he could heal them completely, in a minute or less, and let her go and rest in her own room…but in all fairness, she seemed to be enjoying this, so it was only right that he prolong it as much as she desired.

As if in subconscious agreement, after several more minutes of massage, Sakura gave another soft, drawn-out hybrid between a sigh and a moan of relief, the sound even further muffled by her stretching up and burying her face in his pillow. Itachi couldn't help but blush slightly as he rubbed his thumbs in slow circles up and down her bruised spine, and then over onto the tight, stiff muscles at the tops of her shoulders after her knotted shoulder blades, stifling the temptation to pull at the collar of his shirt in order to alleviate some of the uncomfortable warmth he felt. Touching her like this, it was only too obvious that Sakura wasn't wearing anything under her pretty pink t-shirt. The knowledge shouldn't have affected him as much as it did – shouldn't make him think of how much better it would feel for her if he slipped his hands underneath the hem of her shirt and continued the massage with his chakra-warmed hands against her bare skin – and he hated it.

Part of him was insisting that he just end it now, because it would be easier (just like it would be easier if she refrained from squirming around and kept completely silent), but then Sakura moved again, sounding even more contented, and all thoughts of ending it flew out the window. Itachi kept quiet, focusing intently on her; on how she shifted position in order to give him better access to the areas where the bruising was deepest; on the little, contented sounds she made when he succeeded in easing more of the discomfort she felt; on the fact that she looked happier and more relaxed now than she had for a few days. It was only when his vision begin to blur over and Sakura was almost motionless, her breathing deep and even, when Itachi healed the injury completely with the aid of his medical chakra, before pulling back and blinking at the clock tiredly. It had been a little bit more than half an hour. His hands, wrists, and arms were thoroughly exhausted, but it had been well worth it. Sakura stirred after a few moments, coming out of her light doze, before pushing herself up into a sitting position and rotating her shoulders experimentally, looking surprised by the relief she felt. Her hair was adorably mussed, and for once, instead of averting his gaze too quickly, Itachi found that he couldn't tear his eyes away. "That feels _so _much better!" she exclaimed, pressing her hands to her back experimentally. "Really. Thank you so much."

"Whenever you need anything," Itachi managed, and the expression in Sakura's eyes softened even more. Before he could even blink, she moved forward, wrapping her arms around him, her bright, fragrant hair pressing against his cheek. He tensed up for a moment, startled, until he realized that she had just…hugged him. It took another few seconds before he was able to lift his arms stiffly and place them around her as well, holding her close; the tender motion unfamiliar as he struggled to remember exactly how to do it. This was so painfully close to what he had _wanted _to do; to pull back until he could look at her again and gently press his lips to hers, and see whether that would make her as happy as the massage had.

It was hard to let go. It was harder to keep the contact platonic. But finally, Sakura released him, and smiled. "I feel like I'm about to drop dead, so I should probably head back. Good night, Itachi."

He stood and walked her to his door, and she took his hand and squeezed it briefly as a farewell. He watched her go into her room and close her door behind her, stifling a yawn as she did so, and only then did he close his door. All the breath left Itachi's body in a long sigh as he propped his arm against the door and then rested his aching head on it. His mind was racing, his heart beating too fast, and he looked at the clock again. Half past eleven. Too late for a cold shower, theoretically, but he needed one badly right now, as he hadn't in years, and he pulled off his shirt in one smooth movement from where he stood, flinging it over onto the bed and walking into the bathroom.

The bright, harsh fluorescent light was hard on his eyes, and after undressing completely and stepping into the stall, Itachi turned the water to as cold as it would go, so that the droplets that pounded his skin felt like shards of ice. He stared at the tiles on the wall blankly, before closing his eyes and tilting his head back, letting the freezing water wash over his flushed face, and though he had intended to relax and meditate and force himself into a state of calm, if necessary, his mind would not rest. This entire unbelievable situation was getting out of control, and he never lost control. At first, he had been perplexed, but ultimately accepting, of the slight attraction to Sakura that he felt – because that was all it had been. _Slight. _It had coexisted peacefully enough with the friendship he had built with her, his unlikely new teammate. He enjoyed her company and even actively sought it out, sometimes. He found her little eccentricities amusing and charming. He wanted to do things that would make her happy. He even let himself admire, within reason, her exotic coloring, her lovely features, and her physical grace. It was normal, after all. He knew that theoretically, familiarity often bred attraction, and Sakura was the first young woman that he had spent any real period of time with since leaving Konoha.

But now, things were getting out of hand, and Itachi had no idea how it had escalated to this point. He was getting entirely too fond of her. Too attached. Too…physically attracted, even. It was embarrassing to admit it, but some of the thoughts that had flitted through his mind regarding Sakura were so inappropriately explicit that they were completely unprecedented and uncharacteristic. Part of him was no longer content to merely continue doing what he had been for the past several weeks. The emotions were overwhelming in their intensity, and almost unfamiliar, because it had been so very long since he had felt this way. He wanted to let down some of the walls that he had so carefully constructed and maintained around himself for the past seven years and let Sakura get close. He wanted to hold her hand and kiss her and let her trust him even more fully. He wanted to talk openly with her, without worrying about how to keep a distance between them. He wanted to act on this attraction and see if she felt the same way. For the kami's sake, he wanted a _relationship _with her, a real one, and it was awful and incomprehensible and so, so wrong—

Firstly, she was just sixteen. Sasuke's age; five years younger than he was. It was true that females matured faster than males, emotionally and psychologically, but…still. It was not just her youth that bothered him, but the fact that the entire foundation of what _they _were was a lie. It was true that the past years had mostly been an elaborate façade, but he had been a member of the Akatsuki, the world's most infamous terrorist organization, since he had been thirteen – an age when she and Naruto and Sasuke's most challenging missions had been retrieving missing pets, maintaining the yards of Konoha's elderly citizens, and occasionally heading out of the village for a mundane escort assignment. On the other hand, he had witnessed terrible things; acts of unimaginable injustice and horror and violence, and though he had not perpetrated them directly, he had stood by as a passive observer, which made him just as culpable. And what he had perpetrated directly was the stuff of nightmares. He had murdered thirty members of his own family in cold blood.

A shudder ran through Itachi's body that had nothing to do with the icy water, and he rested his forehead against the chilled tile, exhausted. And Sakura…she was a young, bright, determined medic-nin – who had sworn to _first, do no harm_. She had been unquestionably loyal to Konoha and her friends, and probably had no idea about the dark secrets that lurked within the politics of the village. And despite his lie to her, she seemed so well-adjusted that he was starting to fear that she had parents back home, whom she had loved, and who loved her. She had likely killed at least once at some point in her career as a shinobi, yes…but not like him. She was still innocent and idealistic, somehow. She was an intelligent girl, but she trusted so easily. Perhaps she knew a little about the darkness and cruelties of the world, but he felt that she could practice as a kunoichi until the age of eighty and still not be touched by as much of it as he had by the time he had turned fourteen. Sakura thought she knew him, but she had no idea what he truly was, and if she did, she would never even entertain the thought of…

Logically, he knew this. But to his displeasure, that didn't stop him from wanting her just as fiercely, regardless. Itachi sighed, bowing his head, feeling the rhythm of the water drum on the back of his neck, and he attempted, again, to banish all thoughts of Sakura in his bed, sighing his name; Sakura purposely hanging back while they were supposed to be patrolling an area and then pelting him with snowballs when she thought he wasn't looking, but it was more or less futile. He could only hope, and try as hard as he could, to not act on the considerable temptation.

* * *

Sakura was noticing a trend.

Any time after she and Itachi ever got close – like the time she healed his arm, and when he had helped her with her back that one night – he seemed to try to revert to keeping the usual distance between them. After a week or so, his resolve would soften somewhat. A few days ago, they had been on stakeout duty together, and it had been snowing, and it hadn't been more unbearably cold than normal, but he had stood close to her and held her chilled hands in his chakra-warmed ones for half an hour until Kisame had come to relieve them. Last night, she had been sitting in the library, and he had caught sight of her while heading upstairs after dinner. She'd fluttered her fingers in a casual wave, and after a barely noticeable moment of hesitation, he had come to join her, and they had ended up talking about reading material for almost an hour.

There was something up. Something had changed between them, and Sakura didn't know what, and worst of all, she even didn't know whether that was really true, or if she was being hypersensitive and allowing her borderline unprofessional feelings for Itachi to delude her, making her see things that weren't really there. Regardless of the fact that it was unhygienic, she bit down on the top of her pen, deep in thought, as she stared at the map spread out over her lap without really taking in a single detail.

"What are you doing, kid?" Kisame scoffed, throwing an amused glance down at her as he strode out of the kitchen and into the living room. "It looks like you're trying to give yourself an ulcer."

Sakura shot him a poisonous look, vaguely aware of Itachi – who was seated about two feet from her – glancing up at them for a moment before returning to his work, seemingly unfazed by their conversation and the steady peripheral noise of the television set. "I am not. I am just trying to _concentrate, _which I haven't been able to do with your stupid movie playing in the background—"

Kisame shook his head with mock despair. "You have no appreciation of culture. Even Itachi likes this one. Turn it off or put on some shitty teen soap opera if you want – I'm going to the market, we're out of rice and chicken."

"Oh! If you're going, can you get some of the seasonal vegetables too, please? At least three bags, and they're in the very front row of stalls, so don't pretend like you didn't see them, like you did last time."

"And two packets of chamomile tea," Itachi added mildly, without glancing up from the thick stack of papers he held. "Blueberry would be pleasant as well, if it is available at a reasonable price."

Kisame snorted sardonically as he put his cloak on. "Anything else that I can get for you two? A bottle of the region's finest aged wine? A brand-new set of kunai with jewels encrusted in the hilt and the blades forged by Chinese monks? An advance copy of the latest, not-yet-published Icha Icha novel?"

"One box of female sanitary products," Sakura replied, straight-faced.

Itachi coughed to hide his amusement. "One pair of leather boots, size ten."

Kisame rolled his eyes at their obvious sarcasm. "All right, all right, kids. Try to contain yourselves. If you promise to not burn the house down while I'm gone, I'll even get you each a lollipop on my way back."

Sakura made a face at him, and Itachi raised an eyebrow coolly, and Kisame chuckled all the way out the door.

She couldn't help but put her work down and giggle to herself for a few moments after he had left, due to the sheer oddity of the exchange, although Sakura's merriment was cut short when an unearthly scream emerged from the television set, as the shinobi rival of the main character violently committed seppuku. She stared at the television for a few moments, horrified, and then turned to Itachi. "You _like _this?"

"Regardless of the often disturbing subject matter it, is a true classic," was his typically calm, even reply, although he handed her the remote.

Sakura took it, sliding a little closer to him, and flipped through the channels until she found a much more temperate foreign film, and she sighed contentedly, pulling one of the blankets gathered at the opposite end of the sofa over her lap. The two of them worked in silence for a long while, which probably would have been slightly awkward if not for the heated discussion that the two protagonists of the film were engaging in, and she was faintly aware of the fact when Itachi reached across to retrieve another stack of paperwork from the table, his arm brushed against hers. They were so close to one another that she could feel the warmth radiating off him, and it was silly, but the temptation to put her map aside and lean against him was so briefly overwhelming that she bit her lip.

She forced herself to keep working; keep writing down town names that they had not yet visited, while secretly hoping that, regardless of what Itachi had said about how catching him was important_, _Roshi was five steps ahead and safe from falling into the hands of their _leader. _She could hear the soft scratch of Itachi's pen on his paper, and every so often, it would pause, for longer and longer increments – as if he was losing focus – before he shook his head ever so minutely and continued to write. Just out of curiosity, Sakura glanced at him out of the corner of her eye for a split second the next time he stopped like that, and she blinked, surprised, to realize that his gaze had flickered over to her. Itachi looked away immediately, as he usually did – like it had never happened – and tonight, Sakura couldn't let it pass. Now that she looked at him, _really _looked at him, she could see that he looked more stressed out than he had in a long time, and she set her paperwork aside with more calm than she felt, turning to face him fully.

"Itachi," she said, partially unable to hear her own voice over the beating of her heart. "Whatever it is, I—"

The only warning that she had was the slight rustle of Itachi's papers as he released them, and before she could even fully register the sound, one of his hands was curled carefully around the back of her neck, and his lips were pressed against hers lightly and uncertainly for a heartbeat; not a kiss but just an awkward touch, but then he eased her closer and kissed her for real, gently and tentatively.

Time seemed to slow to a stop, and Sakura froze, staring at Itachi's closed eyes and impossibly long eyelashes, startled beyond belief, her muscles going rigid with shock, and she couldn't even think of what to do or how to react, and by the time she had even fully comprehended what was going on and what it meant, he had already pulled away. For once, Itachi didn't look perfectly composed – he looked almost as shocked and flustered as she felt, albeit in his own less expressive way. She could actually see his pulse racing in the side of his neck, and his shoulders rose and fell more quickly than normal, his skin was flushed, and the expression on his face, as he stared at her, was intense beyond belief. Sakura thought she could understand how he felt – although now she realized that the entire…kiss…had just lasted about three seconds, her heart was pounding like she had just run a marathon, and as irrational as it seemed and though she should probably be focusing on other things right now, she kept going back to the fact that, to her knowledge, that had been her first kiss. Ever.

She opened her mouth to say something, _anything, _she wasn't sure what, but Itachi spoke first, glancing away from her, and then back, as if ashamed. "Sakura, I am so sorry," he said, his voice somewhat hoarse, like what had just happened had stunned him so profoundly that it was interfering with his capacity to speak. "I shouldn't have—"

She had worried about what to do. Unlike with her medical techniques, there was no textbook that could instruct her on how best to do this, and Sakura hesitated briefly, before reaching out and taking Itachi's hands in her own and intertwining their fingers together. She chanced a look up at him then, and the expression in his dark charcoal-gray eyes was more unguarded than she had ever seen – like he wasn't daring to even hope; like he didn't even want to breathe because he couldn't believe what was happening, and for once in her life, she didn't spare any time for in-depth thinking and analysis because it didn't seem necessary. She did the only thing she could do; the only thing that felt right, and she pulled him back to her somewhat clumsily, stretching up to wrap her arms around his neck and pressing a slow, tender kiss against his lips. Sakura was surprised by the soft, almost broken sound that escaped from his throat in response to the tender action, and the way he almost melted under the touch, but then Itachi tugged her closer to him with a hand on the small of her back, reciprocating her kiss with unmistakable feeling. There was something nearly desperate about his touch, as if he had wanted to do this for a long time but restrained himself, and it made her entire body feel warm, inside and out.

It took what felt like a few minutes to move past the initial awkwardness of it, and once she figured out how to breathe simultaneously, it felt good – even better than she had imagined; gentle and sweet and passionate all at once, and Sakura followed Itachi's lead as best as she could, brushing the palm of her hand against his cheekbone lightly and then letting her fingers tangle in his silky ponytail, leaning toward him and changing the angle of the kiss. She felt his lips curve upward a fraction of an inch in approval, his hands sliding over her back to support her, as he gently bit down on her lower lip, and—

All of a sudden, Sakura was distracted by a sound outside, and she pulled back, feeling Itachi tense up for a fraction of a second. "Kisame," he murmured, against her forehead.

It took her a second to realize what he had said, and then there was another brief moment of panic as Sakura realized how potentially…scandalous…the two of them looked, with her sitting almost on top of Itachi on the sofa, her hands linked behind his neck and his resting against her back, and their forgotten paperwork lying disarrayed on the floor. All thoughts of them maybe having a conversation about the implications of what had just happened (did this mean that they were…dating, now, or something?) flew out the window, and Sakura moved hastily and instinctively, distancing from him and reclaiming her blankets, while Itachi quickly gathered up his paperwork and smoothed his hair.

Kisame opened the door and let several swirls of snowflakes enter with him, carrying the five heavy bags as if they weighed nothing. He paused, just inside the doorway, in case – for some freak reason – they had failed to notice the ridiculous commotion he had made while crossing through the several security genjutsu that protected the house. Just to be safe, he also made it a point to call out loudly, "Oy, you two! I'm back!"

He waited four seconds, and didn't hear anything remotely incriminating. Not a single sound of movement. "Hi, Kisame!" Sakura called. "Did you remember the vegetables?"

"Like you'd let me forget," he muttered under his breath, before crossing into the living room somewhat warily. Sakura was curled up on the sofa with her blankets, still immersed in her maps and lists, and Itachi was now perched in the armchair across the room studying something or another, a fresh, hot cup of tea in one hand. They looked perfectly quiet and studious, and he couldn't help but stare somewhat disbelievingly.

"Why do you look so uncomfortable?" Sakura asked, leveling her gaze on him and sounding somewhat suspicious. "…You know that I was kidding about the box of female sanitary products, right? You didn't actually _buy _any…right?"

"Of course not," Kisame muttered, feeling rather disconcerted. Itachi didn't look up from his notes, and just took another small sip of tea. Huh. It looked like…absolutely nothing had changed, despite his prolonged absence. No sparks had flown, contrary to his prediction. Obviously, he had completely misjudged the nature of Itachi's feelings for the newest member of their team. On a rational level, he knew that it wasn't something to get all torn up about, because his partner was generally the most inscrutable person he had ever met, and even after seven years, he was still bound to be wrong sometimes, because it was _Itachi. _But still. He knew his partner better than almost anybody else, and he could have sworn…

Sakura blinked at him curiously, and Kisame gave her a weak smile. "It's…nothing. Nothing at all."

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :) I really enjoy the opportunity to hear what all of you have to say.


	7. The Flame

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was kind enough to leave a review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Seven: The Flame_

* * *

Sakura was starving – as in, her stomach was digesting its own lining, weak-in-the-knees, head-aching _starving. _She scowled as she made her way down the stairs, cursing herself for getting so wrapped up in a chapter about how to ensure maximum sterility while healing open wounds in the field, while wondering what was taking Kisame so unusually long to complete dinner. The annoyed inquiry about whether he had sneakily tried to replace the tofu in the recipe with beef or chicken again was already halfway out of her lips by the time the staircase spat her out into the bright kitchen…

…And her voice trailed off abruptly as Itachi turned from his post methodically stirring a pot of soup on the stove, and he blinked at her once. "I have done no such thing."

Sakura found that her mouth was suddenly very dry, and she nodded several times, unable to stop herself. "Ah. Right. Sorry. Um…where's Kisame?"

Itachi returned his attention to stirring the pot. She couldn't help but notice that he looked as uncomfortable as she felt, as he stood poker-stiff and straight as a board. "Out. We traded shifts."

The pink-haired medic directed a somewhat nervous glance out the gray window. "…It's some awful weather out there," she offered tentatively. "Very…windy. There's high moisture content in the air too."

Itachi gave her a somewhat nonplussed look and then inclined his head, and Sakura fought the urge to wince at herself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. _High moisture content? Where the hell had that come from?

A heavy, awkward silence – quite unlike their usual interactions – fell over them as Itachi continued to work by the stove and she lingered at the entrance to the kitchen, near the foot of the stairs. Sakura was all too conscious of the fact that this was the first time that the two of them had actually had any time alone since the kiss, two days ago. She waited, trying not to fidget like a nervous schoolgirl, but after several minutes had passed, it became obvious that Itachi didn't intend to actually say anything to her regarding what had happened between them, and he hadn't kissed her unexpectedly yet either, and she had no idea what to do, or what to say to him. Should she just follow his lead and pretend like nothing had ever happened between them? Or was he waiting for her to make a move?

Sakura hovered, at a loss for what to do for several seconds, before making up her mind. Impulsively, she stepped forward, coming to join Itachi next to the front of the stove, standing beside him. She saw his fingers tighten around the wooden spoon, although he didn't move away when she leaned her head against his upper arm for several moments. The gesture obviously surprised him, like he was unused to receiving even that small amount of physical contact, but then he looked down and gave her a small, genuine smile that took her for surprise. With his free hand, he lifted a spoon of the steaming hot miso soup from the pot. "Would you like to try it?" he asked, almost shyly.

"Of course," Sakura mumbled, trying not to blush, and she felt more than a little self-conscious as Itachi very carefully lifted the spoon to her lips. She took a sip, aware of the way he was watching her. "It's really good," she managed at last, swallowing it and feeling the hot, spicy liquid burn all the way down her throat. "I think it might need more salt, though."

Itachi handed the bottle to her, letting her add it, and once she had he stirred it in with the typical uncanny focus that he brought to even the most mundane of tasks. Sakura couldn't help but smile a little as she watched the expression on his face, and although he didn't show any sign of noticing her scrutiny, while he stirred the soup, he reached out and gently wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close. Sakura blinked, surprised but pleased, and she leaned against him again, pressing her cheek against the soft material of his cloak happily as she listened to the rhythmic clinking of the spoon against the metal pot. She stared at their blurred, distorted reflection in the burnished silver, deep in thought, while he continued to hold her. She knew with a sudden clarity, somehow, that regardless of what she had been endlessly speculating about for the past two days, Itachi wouldn't talk to her about it. They wouldn't have a discussion about the implications of what had happened, and he certainly wouldn't ask her out or anything. Yet this gesture alone, subtle as it was, made it undoubtedly clear that he did care for her – and that was all the answer that she had needed.

* * *

In the days and weeks that passed, Sakura found that Itachi's subsequent behavior proved her right. Whenever they found themselves on stakeout or patrolling alone together, he would reach for her hand in his shy way, and she would tangle their fingers together without hesitation, feeling her small, calloused palms pressing against his larger, roughened ones. He would always stroke the pad of his thumb over her knuckles and across the soft skin of the back of her hands, as if trying to memorize the contours of her hand in his, like he couldn't get enough of the novel sensation.

And once, since winter was drawing to a close, after all, and spring was rapidly approaching, meaning that the snow was already melting, she had figured that it would be worth one last attempt to engage him in a snowball fight. As she always did, Sakura purposely hung back, waited for the opportune moment, and then pelted Itachi on the back of the head with a large sphere of packed ice. Nine times out of ten, he deflected her attacks with hardly any effort, but this time, the snow collided with his pristine hair, soaking it thoroughly and making him stop dead, and she had nearly fallen over laughing.

Itachi turned, and instead of just giving her the usual deadpan look of restrained amusement, and then waiting for her to catch up so they could control their patrol like the professionals they were, he took advantage of her moment of distraction to use some kind of strange ninjutsu to suck the snow off the ground and into a perfect sphere in the palm of his right hand, before firing it at her, and from there, the battle was on. She had always assumed that, if Itachi ever deigned to respond to her offers of a snowball fight, she would trounce him from one end of the clearing to the other. He just didn't seem like the kind of guy who knew how to do those things – it was hard to imagine him as ever engaging as something as lighthearted as play for the sake of it, even as a child.

That wasn't the case, though. Itachi had utterly decimated her, seeming as though he was enjoying acting completely out of character for once in his life, and though she put up a spirited fight, he wouldn't surrender, either, until she was soaking wet from head to toe with snow and ice, and freezing cold, and had finally called a truce after dropping a lump of snow down the back of his shirt. She had been laughing, still, hard enough to barely notice the somewhat softer, undeniably more content expression on Itachi's face, before, in a rare, expressive moment, he reached out and pulled her into a tight, affectionate hug just to warm her up, while kissing the top of her head.

More recently, there had been a night when they had been stuck in some town while trailing Roshi, since they couldn't very well travel straight through the night, and Kisame had gone out drinking and to play pool at some bar or another. He had suggested that the two of them come as well – _I'll even teach you how to play, kid, although your midget arms may put you at a disadvantage – _but Itachi had claimed that he was going to the market to refuel on supplies, and Sakura had claimed that she was going to go look at what some of the clothing stores had to offer. The three of them had all separated at the center of town, heading in different directions, but after several minutes, four streets away, she and Itachi had just _happened _to run into each other underneath the streetlights. Shortly afterwards, after strolling the streets for a while, her arm linked through his, they found that there was a play going on downtown, some adaptation of an obscure tragedy that Itachi was quite fond of, and they had gone. It had been a fairly cheap production, put on by a group of local talent, but they had sat comfortably in the back row, and Itachi even tentatively put his arm around her shoulders by the intermission, and even though the play was downright depressing and convoluted, the way he would softly whisper in her ear to clarify the parts of the plot that were unclear sent inexplicable shivers down her spine.

It was true that Sakura didn't have any experience to compare this to, yes, but that didn't change the fact that her relationship with Itachi made her happier than she had ever been in the past. It was hard to explain. It was almost illogical, how she felt when she was near him, or when she even thought of him – how her heart felt like it was expanding so much that it filled her entire chest; how when they were talking softly, sitting close together in the library in the dead of night, his fingers brushing against the ends of her hair tentatively, she never wanted to stop; how she felt like, with him, somehow, she _belonged. _

Sure, she had always been aware that he was extremely good-looking, but there was so much more to their relationship than physical attraction. It was because he was a sweet, good, kind, gentle person, quite unlike anyone she had ever met before, and her extroverted personality brought out the best in his taciturn, introverted one. Itachi had started to smile more, since they had initially gotten involved, and it made her happy that she could ease at least some of the stress and tension and troubled aura that had always seemed to emanate from him. And maybe this was just the amnesia speaking, but Sakura couldn't remember ever feeling so appreciated and treasured and special before. Itachi definitely wasn't the type to express all of those sentiments to her in words, but it was clear by the way he looked at her; by the fact that she felt like he was letting her see a side to him that nobody ever had before. Long story short, without rambling on and on too much about how rapturous she felt, there were times when it was almost too much, and she was so ecstatic that she felt like she could just stand on the rooftops and sing at the top of her lungs.

Despite her quiet joy at the fulfillment that being with Itachi brought her, though, Sakura knew better than to let it become obvious. Although it made her feel bad, somehow, to be sneaking around behind Kisame's back, she and Itachi kept things highly discreet. After all, she had been so reluctant to begin this thing with Itachi because they were teammates, and she had no idea whether there was some kind of rules or protocol against fraternization of this nature…

Sakura lifted her last chopstick-ful of sautéed vegetables to her lips, chewing on it delicately, and although she was deep in thought, she spared a moment to make a face at Kisame's ridiculously dramatic expression of deep suffering as he sniffed a piece of cauliflower suspiciously. Next to her, on her right side, Itachi was stoically eating his eggplant, and she couldn't resist reaching out with one foot as she took another bite of her noodles, rubbing her bare toes teasingly up and down his leg. Itachi froze for a second, but continued to eat, rather more slowly than before, and taking pity, Sakura withdrew after one last caress. It was hard to stifle her mischievous smirk. Sure, their situation wasn't exactly conducive to dating, not in the conventional sense of the word, but the two of them could still find times they could be alone with one another.

Like almost every night when she excused herself for bed after dinner, Itachi would oh-so-casually invent an excuse and then meet her upstairs a little while later. She would go upstairs, brush her teeth, comb her hair, sometimes take a shower – depending on what kind of day it was – and change into her pajamas, and when she emerged from the bathroom, she would find him leaning against the wall of her bedroom, maybe perusing one of her textbooks. Without fail, she would jump into Itachi's arms and he would catch her, and then proceed to thoroughly kiss her goodnight before returning downstairs to Kisame.

The memory threatened to make her lips curve up in a smile, and Sakura cleared her throat demurely, brushing her foot against Itachi's once before rising from the table, taking her plate with her. "I think I'm going to have to go to sleep now, if we're still planning on being up at dawn tomorrow."

Kisame scoffed through a mouthful of food at her, obviously gearing up to make another playful crack about her endurance. "No matter how much sleep you get, kid, you're still slower than an amputee, so…"

Sakura rolled her eyes and punched him on the shoulder she had healed after becoming re-acquainted with him. "Yeah, it's not like I have to worry about conserving the reserves of my most powerful chakra, since I'm, you know, _your medic_, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. So sensitive. Really, Itachi, she's worse than you were at this age…"

Itachi raised an eyebrow at Kisame skeptically, clearly taking issue with the statement, and Sakura laughed, patting Kisame on the head. "Good night, Kisame."

"Night, kid."

She walked around the kitchen table, and deciding that it would look natural, placed a hand on Itachi's shoulder for the briefest of moments. She felt his muscles tremble, as if briefly electrified by her touch, and her fingers tingled as well. "Good night, Itachi," she said innocently.

He murmured a soft reciprocation, and rather aware of the weight of his gaze on her back, Sakura retreated from the kitchen and began the climb up the stairs. Itachi couldn't help but watch her go, noticing the effortless grace of her movements, even at the end of a long day, and the perfect contours of her petite figure. He returned his attention to Kisame, hoping that his partner hadn't noticed the brief lapse, but Kisame was busily sawing away at a chunk of eggplant. He, too, glanced up the stairs to make sure Sakura had disappeared from sight, and then he spoke, lowering his voice. "I figure we've got two weeks, tops, until Madara checks in again. If he finds out that we haven't got the Four-Tails _and _we've defied his order to use Sakura as bait for the Nine-Tails…"

He trailed off, and Itachi understood his partner's consternation. It didn't bear thinking about. He despised himself for letting this thought even cross his mind, because ultimately, Roshi was an innocent – he hadn't asked to have the Four-Tailed demon sealed inside him. He in no way deserved what Madara was trying to do to him, and to lose his life in the demon extraction process. When he and Kisame had first been assigned this mission, Itachi hadn't intended on making a real effort to find Roshi in the first place. The Akatsuki's goals were most definitely not his own, and he found what they were doing abominable. But now everything had changed. In order to ensure Sakura's safety, they had to capture Roshi as soon as possible and deliver him to Madara, regardless of the gruesome fate that Madara had planned for the elderly shinobi, and the fact that the Four-Tailed Demon falling into Madara's hands put the world one step closer to the cataclysmic destruction that Madara had planned…

Itachi couldn't help but flinch. Prioritizing. It was one of the reasons he had hated being an ANBU Captain. He'd despised playing games and making judgment calls with the lives of other human beings.

"We need to double our speed," he said quietly. "I am sure he is in one of the three towns directly to our path in the east. If we need to, we can even make some excuse to leave Sakura in the base and pursue him on our own. We may be able to corner him faster that way."

"Right, and just hope that neither of us gets critically injured while taking him down." Kisame sighed, resting his head in his hands. "You know, life was so much simpler before this kid came along. Although it is almost worth it, having someone around who actually understands my sense of humor and responds to my witty repartee with valiant efforts of her own."

Itachi couldn't help but smirk as he rose from the table. "We can discuss this in more depth later," he responded, his thoughts already drifting to join Sakura, who was likely waiting for him. "…I have to go upstairs to take my medication."

Kisame said nothing, and Itachi was almost at the foot of the stairs when he finally spoke, leaning back in his chair and setting his glass down on the table with a loud clunk. "You're getting sloppy, Uchiha," he pronounced, and Itachi couldn't see his facial expression, as his partner's back was to him. "You used the same excuse tonight as you did last night. You've been taking your pills first thing in the morning and at noon every day for the past several years."

Itachi felt the muscles in his shoulders tense up imperceptibly, but he proceeded upstairs without comment. The typical anticipation he felt was tempered with preoccupation with the implications of Kisame's statement, tonight, but Sakura's door had been left halfway open, and he found her settled on her bed, comfortably dressed for the night and bent over yet another page of her medical textbooks. As he lingered in the doorway and watched, the pink-haired medic smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear as she scanned the page, brow furrowed in concentration, before she noticed his presence. Her eyes lit up, and she set her book aside, and he was vaguely aware of the way his lips curved upwards in a tentative smile – as he had been doing more and more often, lately. By the time he took two steps forward, Sakura had already met him halfway, flinging her arms around his shoulders and placing an affectionate kiss on his cheek. "Hi," she whispered, into his ear, after standing on the tips of her toes.

He was still getting used to these open displays of affection and how to respond to them appropriately, and despite the fact that part of his brain was still occupied, mulling over what Kisame had said, Itachi responded to her in the way he had learned she expected, wrapping his arms around her waist and trailing a line of soft, small kisses from her cheek, toward her ear, and then down her neck. Sakura laughed, tugging on his arms playfully until he finally claimed her lips with his. Itachi felt her soft almost-purr of contentment as she pressed even closer to him, stretching up and raking her slender fingers through his hair, and the tiny sound wiped his mind clean of any thoughts unrelated to her.

Even after several minutes, it was as difficult as always to tear himself away, even when they eventually reached the stage where they always parted for the night – with Sakura settled on her bed, blankets covering her legs, as Itachi sat by her side, holding her close. The two of them occasionally traded slow, languorous kisses interspersed with conversation, his fingers curled gently around the back of her neck. Every night, without fail, he always marveled at the fact that she trusted him enough to touch her there without batting an eyelid, and internally, Itachi flinched, as he always did when his thoughts drifted in this direction – toward the fact that if Sakura had any idea who and what he really was, she would likely rather eviscerate herself with a ninjutsu than allow him to get this close to her.

Sakura shifted her head against his chest, trying to get comfortable, and she tilted her head up to look at him inquisitively, perhaps noting the slight change in his expression. "Are you okay?"

"I am fine," Itachi replied quietly, brushing his fingers through the length of her hair, and then kissing her forehead tenderly, as she closed her eyes and blushed. "Although I should probably return downstairs. Kisame will be waiting."

Sakura pouted playfully, but released him and let him get out of bed regardless. "Good night, Itachi," she said softly, and he was startled by the amount of subtle emotion her tone betrayed. It sounded as though she would actually miss him; like she wished he could stay.

The thought made him hesitate for an entirely unacceptable moment, but Itachi bent and kissed her one last time regardless. "Sleep well, Sakura."

He returned downstairs, lapsing back into deep thought, and when he entered the kitchen again, he found Kisame standing in front of the sink, using much more water than was necessary to wash the plates. His partner said nothing, seeming to not acknowledge his re-entry at all, and after a moment's pause, Itachi joined him by the sink, taking one of the dish towels from off the counter and approaching the wet plates with them. He and Kisame worked in silence for a little over ten minutes, which was hardly unusual, but it was a strange silence, for them; somehow more tense than it had been in a very long time.

Itachi rubbed the towel in a small circle on the plate he was holding without quite seeing it, and by the time he had dried and put it away, Kisame was still stubbornly silent, and he knew that for once – a definite departure from the usual dynamic – he had to initiate the communication. "…May I ask what is on your mind, Kisame?"

The inquiry was gentle and not defensive in the least, and Kisame could hear that it was borne out of pure, genuine curiosity. He heaved a sigh, scrubbing at one of the pots forcefully. "Nothing," he replied shortly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his partner regarding him thoughtfully. "Really."

The skepticism couldn't have been clearer, and Kisame scowled at his hands, disliking this entire damn situation, and frustrated at himself for even _caring, _anyway. It was unlike him. "Yeah. It's none of my business."

This time, he felt Itachi's gaze, no less intense for lack of his bloodline limit, boring into the side of his head. "Kisame."

Damn, he hated how his partner could do that – say a single word, in a mild tone, but layer it with so much authority that it somehow demanded a comprehensive response. For the kami's sake, he was an S-ranked missing-nin and Mist's most feared, infamous shinobi; hardly an awestruck little genin or something. But that was just the effect that Itachi had on people. Kisame shrugged self-consciously, absorbing himself in scouring the pot. "Look, there's no need to dance around what you have going on with Sakura," he said gruffly. "It's obvious. I don't know why I didn't notice it earlier. And I don't have a problem with it. Like I said, it's none of my business."

Itachi watched Kisame curiously, noting his closed-off body language and the difference in his tone. His partner had just lied to him, regardless of the fact that both of them knew that he was extraordinarily well-versed in spotting even the tiniest sign of untruthfulness. It was a unique situation. Unprecedented, as a matter of fact, and this disturbed him. He and Kisame had always been not just partners, but the closest people that the other had to a friend, and this was a departure from Kisame's normal behavior. Kisame had always been brutally honest with him before. He had actually lost count of how many times his partner had tried to convince him that his scheme regarding his and Sasuke's final confrontation was completely "idiotic and unnecessary," except the phrase had been laced with more profanities.

"The truth?" Itachi asked evenly, his inflection making it clear that he had caught on to the dishonesty.

Predictably enough, Kisame stiffened defensively. He sighed again, redirecting his attention to the next pot in line, as if viciously scouring it was proving an outlet for whatever stress he felt at the moment. "Okay," he finally admitted. "Fine. I wouldn't have a problem for it except that…" He trailed off, shutting off the water abruptly, and Itachi found himself watching his partner like a hawk, as the rest of the words came out in a rush. "It would be one thing if she knew the truth, or that the two of you had met in a different situation," he said quickly. "So she would know exactly…what she's getting involved with, and rationalize that decision on her own. But you're involved with her, and she thinks that you're just…nice teammate Itachi. She completely adores you, I can see it in her eyes, and I wouldn't want my sister to be in a situation like that—"

Kisame stopped suddenly, looking and sounding as if he had said more than he had intended to, while turning on the water with a spasmodic twist of the faucet that nearly pulled the knob off entirely. He absorbed himself in scrubbing, dousing himself practically elbow-deep in the gushing torrent of water, looking as though he expected an attack to come at any time and was entirely ready to use the heavy metal pot as a shield. But Itachi just watched him, all too conscious of the fact that his thought process seemed to have slowed to a halt, and that the sense of calm and peace he had felt while upstairs with Sakura was fading away, only to be replaced by the usual emotions that he had been battling with of late.

Finally, Kisame turned to him, looking a little worried. "Look, kid, I—"

But Itachi cut him off, turning away and proceeding toward the stairs slowly, and Kisame could hardly hear his next words over the rush of water. "Do you really think I haven't thought of that?"

"Itachi…"

His partner didn't stop, and Kisame heard his slow, shuffling footsteps proceed up the stairs. Only after the sound had disappeared did he allow himself to shut off the water and rake his soapy hands through his spiked hair wearily, all of the breath leaving his body in a long sigh.

* * *

Throughout the next day, Itachi acted as if their conversation had never happened, and Kisame was only too glad to follow his lead, although he still felt a vague sense of unease every time he looked at his partner's carefully blank expression. Dinner that night was an uncomfortable affair, with Sakura attempting to carry the conversation, and then finally giving up due to both of their flat, monosyllabic replies. As always, she finished eating first, and exactly fifteen minutes after she had politely excused herself and headed upstairs, Itachi did so as well, remaining silent.

Another fifteen minutes passed, where Kisame washed the dishes, feeling all too aware of the palpable tension that had settled over their small team since the previous night. And all because he couldn't keep his mouth shut; because he had stupidly, foolishly, unnecessarily, let himself worry about Sakura, even though it wasn't his place to do so and she didn't need it anyway. For the kami's sake, she was a Konoha kunoichi; an enemy who he would have sliced in half without a second thought if they had met for the first time on the battlefield – and she would doubtlessly attempted to rip him limb from limb with her freakish strength, as well.

Sure, they were on the same side now and she was a nice girl, once that troublesome, all-consuming loyalty to her village was stripped away, but what would happen if she got her memories back somehow? He had no idea how these things worked. What if Sakura woke up one night and remembered everything? Undoubtedly, she would sneak into his room and kill him while he slept for being the first one to tell her that asinine lie – and then, she'd probably have a worse and more torturous death in store for Itachi, for manipulating her and stringing her along like this. In any case, he had no reason to care about her so much that he had disagreed with his partner. None whatsoever.

His thoughts were disrupted by the telltale creak of the last stair, and Kisame turned away from the sink sharply. Itachi made his way into the kitchen, his expression more steely and remote than usual, and without acknowledging him whatsoever, he headed directly for the cabinet right above the radio – the one cabinet that Kisame always took the most care to keep well-stocked – before opening it and withdrawing a bottle of sake and one shot glass. Seemingly blind to the briefly stunned look on his partner's face, Itachi sat down at the kitchen table, measured a shot for himself, and then drank it down in one gulp.

Kisame couldn't help but stare at this outrageous departure from the norm. For the past seven years, he had only ever seen Itachi drink on two days every year. Just two days. The twenty-third of July, and the twelfth of October. His little brother's birthday, and the anniversary of the day of his family's deaths, respectively – two days when his pain was so great that he needed the alcohol to numb it. He understood that, especially considering the fact that Itachi suffered with a huge degree of pain and guilt on a day-to-day basis, but unlike him, Itachi never drank at bars, always alone in in the kitchen of whatever temporary base they were staying at. On the twelfth of October, he would toss back shot after shot and stay silent, his eyes growing redder and redder. On the twenty-third of July, he would drink even more and occasionally mumble about how he should have been there to celebrate the occasion with Sasuke and the rest of his family and give Sasuke presents. It was always a truly pathetic sight, and Kisame meant that in the kindest and most sympathetic way possible.

Despite the fact that Itachi couldn't make it more obvious that he had no desire to speak, the presence and scent of the alcohol was a temptation, as was his curiosity, and his partner didn't protest when Kisame took the seat opposite from him, bringing his own glass from the cabinet. They took several shots in a more companionable silence, taking their time and passing the bottle back and forth, and it was after the seventh that Itachi finally spoke, staring at a corner of the kitchen floor, his voice soft and indistinct. "I know it's wrong," he murmured, and Kisame blinked, startled by the suddenness of it, and the uncharacteristic openness in his tone. "But she's so…so…intelligent, and caring, and bright, and…" He trailed off, a peculiar expression on his face, and Kisame had to fight the perverse, inappropriate urge to laugh at the sight of Itachi looking like a lovesick boy his own age – he always forgot that the Uchiha was just twenty years old and would be twenty-one in June – for the very first time. It would have been funny if it wasn't so sad.

"You don't have to—" he started, but Itachi waved one hand unsteadily, narrowly avoiding spilling the alcohol in his shot glass all over the kitchen floor.

"And she's pretty. _So _pretty. She's everything I would have ever wanted. Just the kind of girl I would have been interested in if…if…none of this had ever happened. If I still lived in Konoha." Itachi's gaze went out of focus for a moment, and he drank down the shot in his hand in an instant.

There was no need to ask what _none of this _had meant, and Kisame nodded, much less far gone than his partner, and by the time he could even fully think of something appropriate to say, Itachi had continued. "I don't deserve her," he mumbled, and the sorrow in his voice was horribly profound. "Not at all. I should have never touched her. I tried to keep my distance, but I couldn't resist the impulse…selfish, I know…but she makes me happy. _So _happy."

Remembering what he had said last night, Kisame fidgeted in his chair uncomfortably. "Look, Itachi…"

"This is all wrong," Itachi blurted, ignoring him, and he took another drink of sake, before leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. "Sasuke…he's defeated Orochimaru, and he's left Sound in order to pursue me."

Itachi heard Kisame's intake of breath, and he nodded, inhaling the scent of the alcohol and pressing down against his aching head, trying to make sense of his muddled thoughts. The conclusion of his plan was approaching; his death was near. Keeping the sickness at bay was getting more and more difficult and taxing. He felt weak and weary and in terrible pain all the time. The medication he took to suppress his coughing fits was rapidly losing effectiveness. During the nights, when the terrible, spasmodic fits would overcome him, he would have to bite down on his pillow to stifle the sound. During the days, he would transport himself far enough away from his teammates, under the guise of doing something or another, to allow himself to succumb to the episodes that left him shaking like a leaf, his palms coated with his own blood. He should have been – damn it, he should have been _thankful. _Sasuke killing him would fulfill the best-laid, flawless plan for the Uchiha clan's redemption that he had formulated eight years ago…while also putting him out of his misery, quite literally; saving him from dying an even slower, agonizing death.

He had looked forward to this for the longest time. But now, everything was different in a way he had never foreseen. Now, there was Sakura to consider, and the mere thought of her was almost enough to make Itachi shudder with repressed misery. What would happen to her? Would her memories return by then, or had they been lost permanently? Both scenarios were terribly worrying. What impact would potentially seeing Sasuke have on her? Would he even take her with him, when the end came? What else could he do with her? He couldn't leave her. But she didn't fit into his plans. They didn't account for her. She was a wild card, and he had no idea what to do. And it felt horrible to admit it; selfish beyond imagination, but now, he didn't _want _to leave her behind and alone. He had come to care for her too much, far too much, to just abandon her without a second thought. The thought was unconscionable. It would traumatize her so badly, and he couldn't stand the thought of her hurting in any way. He had to protect her, just like he once had to protect Sasuke. And he didn't want to die if it meant—

Itachi forcibly shut down that train of thought, too afraid of where it would go and its implications. As if all of that wasn't bad enough, the Roshi problem had been weighing heavily on his mind. It was shameful and it made him a hypocrite, but he actually wanted to find the man. If not, Madara's patience would run out, and they would be forced to use an unknowing Sakura as bait for Naruto. That would complicate the state of events even further, and the mere idea was abhorrent.

"I'm so afraid of what's going to happen to her," Itachi managed, the words raw and barely audible. "And considering…considering everything, I should regret getting involved with her and bringing her into this mess. But I don't."

Kisame lowered his empty shot glass slowly, hiding his surprise at the disclosure. Itachi had stopped drinking, now; he pushed his glass back and forth across the tabletop halfheartedly, despair slumping his shoulders and deepening the ever-present stress lines underneath his eyes. He looked drowned in the darkness of the Akatsuki cloak, and he managed to look both older than his years, while simultaneously small and overwhelmed by the situation he was in. Kisame watched his partner quietly, and even though he should have known better after so long, he was still a little astonished at what kind of tumult and extraordinary degree of internal conflict that Itachi could hide behind that inexpressive face and perpetually detached demeanor of his.

And now that he thought of it, he was feeling more and more guilty for what had happened last night. For as long as he had known Itachi, his partner had always stubbornly denied himself any opportunity for happiness, in an attempt to punish himself for what he had done seven years ago. It was saddening, to some degree. A pity, really, because Itachi was the kind of truly caring, devoted guy who could make a woman really happy – if only he hadn't been so obsessed with his plan to allow his brother to redeem the Uchiha clan; if only he hadn't been born with a rare, fatal degenerative illness. Still, on some level, he had always thought that maybe Itachi would crack one day. A person couldn't live like that, and that was precisely where Sakura had come in. She had waltzed into their lives so unexpectedly, so close to the end that Itachi's defenses were down, and Itachi had just come undone. He'd fallen for her completely and irrevocably.

Though it seemed unbelievable, after so many years and experiences together, Kisame knew that the man sitting across from him only had a limited time left on this earth; due to his own determination, as well as an illness that had been present at birth. Bad genes. And he supposed that…well, that it would be unfair, somehow, for Itachi to die without living vicariously for once in his life. Despite what he had thought earlier, his partner wasn't taking advantage of Sakura's vulnerability. He truly cared for her. But Itachi had a point. Sakura…what would they _do _with her, assuming her memories didn't return? (And if they did, that was a whole other unpleasant can of worms.) Within a couple of months, Itachi and Sasuke would face off in a confrontation that would end with Itachi's death, and Kisame couldn't imagine that Sakura – Itachi's girlfriend, or whatever – would exactly be happy with that. Who knew how this whole situation was going to play out. It was a bloody mess. But still…

"It's okay," Kisame said awkwardly, after meeting his partner's gaze. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

Itachi nodded solemnly, before picking up the bottle of sake again. He poured himself one last glass, and then filled up his partner's. There was nothing left to say and only one thing left to do, and in unison, Kisame and Itachi picked up their glasses, subtly toasted each other, and drank them down in one gulp.

* * *

"You know, are you sure that Kisame doesn't know about the two of us?"

The inquiry came randomly, halfway through a page of one of Itachi's books of poetry. Despite Sakura's protests, he had convinced her to keep an open mind regarding his preferred literature, just as he had regarding hers, and recently, he had been rereading one of his favorite epics with her. Itachi raised an eyebrow, marking the page with his finger and closing the book, careful to keep his tone noncommittal. "What makes you think that?"

Sakura bit her lip, tapping her finger against her cheekbone thoughtfully. "He's been leaving us alone together a lot, haven't you noticed?"

Itachi reached out and brushed a few stray locks of hair out of her eyes. "I am sure it is just coincidence." He let his touch linger at her temple for an instant, feeling his heartbeat actually flutter at the way she was looking at him. "…Why, Sakura, are you complaining?"

She gave him a patently disbelieving look, before plucking the book out of his hands and batting her eyelashes coyly. "Not at all. Actually, maybe I should write him a thank-you letter."

Sakura had just enough time to note the actually amused expression that flitted across Itachi's face, before she took a step forward, backing him up against the bookshelf. She stretched up, putting one hand on his shoulders, twining the other in his thick, silky ponytail, pulling him down toward her, and kissing him softly. Although it had been somewhat awkward between them in the earlier days, like a constant, ongoing learning experience, Itachi responded to her with more or less perfect ease now, placing his strong hands on her waist. As he always did, he kissed her with such pure, undiluted force of emotion that it made her knees weaken, and when Sakura pulled away for an instant to catch her breath, Itachi held her close, bending down somewhat to whisper in her ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin there. "You can admit it – you just wanted to get out of reading the poetry."

Sakura smirked, stroking his hair and nuzzling against his cheek. "I'll deny it until my last breath."

Itachi then proceeded to initiate a kiss that took her breath away – something that the samurai did often to the princess in her favorite historical fiction novel, and she had never thought that it was actually possible, but now she knew better. Caught up in the moment, Sakura let the hand that wasn't twined into his hair slide down his hard, muscled chest, and she felt and heard Itachi's hardly audible intake of breath as her fingers brushed against the hem of his shirt. Emboldened by the rare expression of emotion, she let her hand slip underneath his shirt, brushing tentatively against the toned muscles of his chest, right over his ribcage, and further up, so she could feel his heart thudding ridiculously fast beneath the palm of her hand.

In response, Itachi gave another soft sigh, like she was tugging at his heartstrings and unraveling him like a bow, as he gently bit down on her bottom lip. She felt his rough, surprisingly cool palms through the material of her vest, his thumbs sliding under the hem of her much more closely-fittedshirt, as far up as they could go, so that she felt his hands on the bare, never-been-touched skin at the small of her back. She fidgeted a little at the completely novel sensation, letting her lips part even more as she scraped her fingernails in gentle circles against Itachi's chest, and…

As always, he heard it before she did; the clatter toward the front of the house that indicated that Kisame had passed through the protective chakra barrier and was getting ready to enter the base. All the breath left Sakura's body in a sharp sigh as Itachi drew back, but instead of immediately, rapidly distancing himself from her like he always did, he spoke quietly, his voice hoarse and his tone more openly emotional than she had ever heard, besides the time when he had told her about his family. "Sakura…do you want to continue this upstairs?"

Sakura froze, startled, and it took her a few moments to comprehend his words. Itachi was watching her as if unable to believe his own nerve, although she could still see the repressed passion in his gaze, and he had never asked her that before, and did that mean… What was that even implying, anyway? Upstairs had to mean one of their bedrooms, and after what had just happened between them, which was even less innocent than their most heated goodnight kisses had ever been – well, she couldn't imagine that they would just…stop, once things got started on that track.

On a rational level, she knew that she wasn't astonished by this revelation. She'd even given serious thought to the possibility several times, after Itachi had gone downstairs for the night, and she had been curled up in bed, unable to sleep – although, to be completely honest, she hadn't expected them to reach this point yet. Not that it was too soon, or anything – but no matter what seemed logically probable, the actual act of them taking their relationship to the next level always seemed so far in the future regardless, involving a room prettier and more luxurious than either of their small bedrooms in this base, and her looking magically taller, while filling out a short, sexy red satin nightgown with considerably more pulchritude and curvier, more shapely legs and ass, and also with much longer, sultrier hair and a perfectly cultivated seductive gaze…

Sakura winced, tearing herself away from her favorite fantasy before she could get to the part where in between passionate kisses, Itachi pushed the thin straps of her nightgown off her shoulders and onto the plush rug that covered the floor. But still, sex was a component of many romantic relationships, and even from the beginning, it had been clear that Itachi cared for her on a primarily emotional level, and vice versa. He wasn't interested in her just physically, and she trusted him completely and totally. Whatever happened between them…

_You're jumping to conclusions, _her inner voice snapped sharply. _That might not even be exactly what he's talking about! There's no time for deep introspection right now! _

And, as long as she was still being completely honest, despite the logical, sensible train of thought that her mind was rattling out…part of Sakura just wanted to agree; to take that plunge out of sheer curiosity. She wanted to know what Itachi's hands would feel like on the rest of her body. She wanted to see what he would be like at his most unguarded. She wondered just how intense it would feel, to acquiesce and let his passion sweep over her and pull her under, like a wave, and what it would feel like and be like to be loved – because she had no doubt that it would be just as much an emotional and mental experience as it was a physical one – so completely and unconditionally. But by the time Sakura recovered enough for her muscles to relax, and she looked up again, the agreement already halfway out of her lips, she heard the front door swing open and Kisame call out his typical loud greeting.

She and Itachi released each other hastily, and in yet another display of the lightning-fast speed that never failed to blow her mind, with a barely noticeable pulse of chakra, he materialized in the living room. One look over his shoulder confirmed that Sakura was still in the library, and to her credit, she had dashed over to a shelf of books that looked at least a little more applicable to what they were supposed to be doing. Kisame strolled inside the living room at his leisure, and upon catching sight of the annoyed expression on his partner's face – Itachi couldn't help thinking that if Kisame had just delayed his entrance for just a _few more seconds, _and he was sure that his irritation showed– he grinned in his most shark-like, obnoxious manner. Itachi responded by narrowing his eyes a fraction of an inch, and Kisame had the gall to chortle outright, before turning in the direction of the library in order to greet Sakura.

As always, through dinner, they had to act as though nothing was amiss – as if they were just the quintessential, oh-so-professional team of shinobi with an utterly conventional dynamic and nothing going on underneath the surface. Between mouthfuls of rice, Kisame filled them in on the information he had managed to gather; that he had a strong lead that Roshi was located in a village that they would be able to get to in less than a day's travel…and better yet, that there was no hurry, because the punishing pace of travel and the meandering yet high-speed chase had left the elderly shinobi ill from overexertion, regardless of his "much, ah, larger than usual chakra reserves."

Sakura had looked up from her bowl, visibly concerned and alarmed at the news of Roshi's ill health, but after a few moments, as if remembering herself, she glanced downwards self-consciously, picking at her rice. For Itachi's part, despite the massive implications of Kisame's news, he could hardly respond intelligently and accordingly to his partner's words, and he couldn't even taste his food. He had never felt like this before – his mind was in turmoil that had nothing to do with Roshi, and though Sakura was sitting about a foot and a half away, he was so hyper-aware of her presence; of every time she moved her hands or shifted positions, tucking her foot under her, or smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear, that his muscles had gone rigid, his knuckles as they gripped his chopsticks, and he was fairly sure that his heart was beating so loud and fast that it was clearly audible to everybody in the kitchen. Yet, Sakura and Kisame kept talking, even after she got up and cleaned her plate off, and Itachi wasn't sure whether it was his imagination, or whether her uncertain gaze had lingered on him for a few moments longer as she wished the two of them good night. Though Kisame responded in his usual manner, through a mouthful of food, Itachi could barely manage a stiff, mechanical nod.

He forced himself to wait half an hour, this time – counting every minute, though he tried not to – until he had finished washing the dishes for the night, before ascending the stairs. His heart rate was still accelerated, and his palms were actually damp with sweat, which hardly ever happened, and he felt overheated all over, although his Akatsuki cloak was folded neatly on his bed and nowhere in sight. As soon as Itachi made it onto the top floor, he could see that Sakura had left her door ajar, as always, and though part of him was begging, actually _begging _him to just walk in; to just take this chance and not question it and not give himself the opportunity to deny it, he made himself stop in the hallway outside. He leaned against the wall, letting his head drop back against it as he closed his eyes, all the breath leaving his body in a tortured sigh. Now that he concentrated, he could hear the rush of the shower in Sakura's bathroom, and he imagined her—

_No. _Itachi shut the thought out abruptly, trying to ignore the slowly increasing pounding in his head. It was wrong. What he had contemplated – what he had _been _contemplating over the past several weeks – and what he had actually allowed himself to voice, in a rare moment of weakness, was wrong. The mere act of getting involved with Sakura in the first place had been ethically questionable. Taking their relationship (which was so painfully simple and innocent in her eyes) to the next level with her and engaging in such an act of intimacy would be downright dishonorable. Even though he had committed acts of unspeakable atrocity as a shinobi, there had been nothing as deceitful and dishonest as this. For somebody with as strong moral convictions as he had, it should have been incomprehensible.

And yet, he was tempted. He was _so _tempted. The past months with Sakura had been the brightest in his life since he had been forced to murder his family and leave Konoha. It was awful; one of the phrases he had secretly scoffed at in her historical fiction novels, but she made him feel like he could breathe again. No matter how much he had initially told himself that he should stay away from her, he had still wanted to get closer. It was almost like a magnetic pull. Itachi inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. That was perhaps one of the strongest keys to how he felt now. In two or so months, he would have to walk to his own death. Being with Sakura; looking at her and seeing how much she cared for him and realizing the depth of how much he cared for her; brought him joy that he thought he had forgotten how to feel, after so long, and he wanted…well, regardless of how selfish and dishonorable it made him, he wanted to do it – to love her – _completely. _Regardless of the consequences.

Part of him whispered disapprovingly that this was wrong, so unbelievably wrong, and that she wouldn't thank him for this if-when her memories returned, but Itachi opened his eyes, stepping away from the wall, cautiously opening Sakura's door a little bit further, and stepping into her bedroom.

And he stopped dead.

Sakura blinked, drawing the thick black towel around herself a little bit self-consciously as she shut the bathroom door behind her, preventing any of the steam from escaping into her already warm room. For all she knew, she didn't look _too _terrible – she had just blow-dried her hair, so it wasn't as straight as it normally was, and her skin was still a little damp from the hot shower, and sure the towel, hastily wrapped around her body when she had heard him enter her room, and hanging down to her knees, wasn't the most flattering thing in the world, but Itachi looked like he had been hit with a paralysis ninjutsu nevertheless. "I can leave," he managed, averting his gaze to the corner of the room and staring at her lamp with iron-clad discipline.

"No," Sakura replied quickly, feeling rather guilty for the excessively warm temperature in the room and the way it was making Itachi blush. "It's okay. Stay for a minute."

She approached him slowly, like a wildlife observer with a skittish deer. Itachi was holding himself so unnaturally still, an unreadable expression in his eyes, as if he was unsure what would happen if he moved even a muscle. Sakura gave him a small smile, wanting to set him at ease a little, and like she had done earlier, she twined her fingers into his long ponytail gently, pulling him down to her, leaning close, and pressing a line of soft, sweet little kisses from his collarbone, up his neck, and then a long, deep one on his lips.

She had intended for it just to be a brief thing; just one kiss, to make up for being interrupted like that earlier, but then Itachi sighed into her mouth, and then he _touched _her, placing his hands on her hips and drawing her closer, and the feeling of his hard, muscled body against her not-fully-dressed one made Sakura forget entirely about that idea. Itachi reciprocated her kiss wholeheartedly, wrapping his arms around her and supporting her with his hands against her back, one hand first touching her lower back and the other then sliding upwards to caress her bare shoulder blades and then wrap around the back of her neck, and although it hadn't been his intention at all, he realized with a jolt that she was almost completely naked underneath the towel. The plush material of the fabric was still warm and damp from her body and the shower, and so was her skin, and kami, the way he felt with her so close to him like this—

Sakura's skin smelled like flowers, like her namesake, although her hair smelled like fruits, somehow; like ripe, juicy strawberries on a summer day, like the kind his mother used to bring him on afternoons when he was on break from training. Itachi breathed in deeply, lifting it off her neck, before kissing the sensitive skin there, all the way up from the base of her neck to the delicate tendons in the side and then over her throat, when she tilted her head back to allow him access, her beautiful hair spilling over his hands and all of the breath leaving her body in a combined sigh and whimper. The sound brought him undone just as much as it always had, and Itachi couldn't suppress the ragged gasp that left his throat when he pulled away from her neck, looking her in the eye for just a moment before her arms went around his shoulders again and she kissed him full on the lips, practically melting into his arms; still tasting like her sweet, minty toothpaste. Itachi's heart felt like it was going to explode and his lungs were practically spasming from the sheer force of will that it took to suppress the coughing that usually overcame him during moments of high tension and emotion, but for once, he didn't care.

"Stop me," he breathed, pulling back and meeting her puzzled gaze. "If it's too much…"

The expression in Sakura's eyes softened, and instead of kissing him again, she wrapped her arms around his waist, letting her head rest against his chest, enveloped by the warmth of his clothing, and looked up at him. "I don't want to stop," she said quietly but deliberately, and he could see the iron-clad determination on her face – but more troubling to his conscience, the complete, unconditional trust. "I want to do this."

Itachi watched her intently nevertheless, searching her expression for even the tiniest trace of doubt – anything that he could cling onto; anything that would give him an excuse to walk away from this. But Sakura was as resolute as always, and he shoved the last reserves of his own conscience to the back of his mind with difficulty, before pressing his lips to hers once more, with delicious slowness, determined to savor every last moment without letting guilt stand in the way. Almost everything in his life had been about sacrifice, after all. He deserved this one sweet, final indulgence, didn't he?

He felt her small hands tugging at the thick fabric of his long-sleeved shirt, pulling the neck downwards as she took her time placing kisses on the sharp ride of his collarbone and the hollow of his neck, and it took every last bit of focus Sakura had not to become derailed when he started to run his hands down the sides and front of her body, carefully tracing the contours of her figure from the neck down. Despite the fact that Itachi was obviously being careful not to pull the towel off her body and to take things slowly, Sakura could still feel his firm, calloused palms pressing against her more sensitive curves, all the while never allowing the burning intensity of their kiss to subside. Though it defied her usual perception of Itachi's calm demeanor, there was something almost desperate about the way he kissed her and touched her; like he had just found that he was going to be stranded in a desert for a very long time and that she was the last drink of cold, sweet water that he would ever take, and Sakura bit her lip to stifle a moan as she pressed even closer to him. This time, he let one of his hands slip under the hem of her towel, caressing her bare thigh in slow, soothing motions until his fingertips brushed the edge of the lace panties that rested on her hipbones – the touch made her shiver all over – and she could feel Itachi's breaths coming a little quicker as well.

It was getting harder for both of them to control themselves, and ignoring the way that her hands were practically trembling, Sakura took a step back, before helping to ease Itachi's shirt off. This left his long hair most attractively disarrayed, as he stared down at her intently – and though she could tell most of the raw emotion fueling his gaze was the repressed desire to undress her as well, she could also detect the faintest trace of self-consciousness, and belatedly, she realized why. Itachi was…thin. Well, thinner than she had expected – his clothes and Akatsuki cloak certainly lent an impression of added bulk, which wasn't there. He was still all hard, lean muscle in the arms, sides, and chest, but when he inhaled and exhaled, his rib cage and collarbones were still far too prominent – _unhealthily _prominent – against his skin. Perhaps there was more to that persistent cough than just a recurring respiratory problem?

Hiding her surprise and hoping he hadn't noticed her lapse, Sakura rested her hands on his chest, lightly caressing the toned muscle, fascinated – noting the way Itachi's breath caught in response to her ministrations – and when her palms skimmed over his upper arms, she blinked, astonished for the second time in as many minutes. "You have a tattoo?"

For some reason, Itachi actually flinched at the mention, lifting one hand to cover it, as if embarrassed, but she pried his fingers apart and stared, intrigued. "You never seemed like the type!" Sakura traced her fingers down the simple yet elegant black swirling pattern, which seemed oddly familiar to her, but still elusive. Maybe she had caught a passing glimpse of it another time Itachi had happened to be shirtless in front of her… "Does this mean anything?" she asked curiously.

"I was young," Itachi replied shortly, the tension – and not the strangely exciting, sexually charged kind that had been there a minute before – clear in his voice. "It was…a foolish, misguided mistake."

Wondering at his seemingly disproportionate reaction, Sakura still smiled coquettishly, hoping to set him at ease, and kissed the somewhat faded black ink, running her fingertips up and down his arm. "It's okay. I think it's hot – not that you needed any help in that department."

Some of the tension seeped out of Itachi's frame, only to be replaced by the subtly amused expression that he sometimes wore around her. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her again, somewhat uncertainly guiding her to the bed, and though Sakura's heart was hammering nervously and her palms felt sweaty and her mind was now approaching a screaming state of tension borne out of anticipation and overwhelming curiosity at having all of her questions so close to being answered, she still felt ready for what was going to happen, and unshakably sure about the fact that there was nobody else in the world whom she wanted to do this with. He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her close, so that she straddled his lap, and since her towel was barely clinging on at this point, Sakura ignored her palpitations and reached up, ready to pull it off, and—

"Wait," Itachi said hastily, before proceeding to look downright uncomfortable. "We should…protection? I do not have any such…materials…in my possession…"

Sakura gave a sigh of mingled frustration at the abrupt interruption of the moment, along with simultaneous relief for the sudden respite from the crushing emotional intensity – although she was pleased that he had the foresight to ask. She had been horribly confused when, after two months had passed since her re-acquaintance with Itachi and Kisame, she had still failed to get her period. It had been in a state of fairly high agitation that she had gone leafing through every medical textbook that she owned before finding a passage, carefully highlighted in an attention-catching orange – the technique was a common one used by kunoichi; a procedure that would stop menstruation entirely, therefore preventing the possibility of a pregnancy, until the seals were undone by the kunoichi herself. Next to that paragraph, she had written neatly, "_Date of inception,_" and that was followed by a date a little more than one year ago.

"I've got it covered," Sakura told him, rolling her eyes, before punching him playfully in the arm, trying to regain some of their usual, more lighthearted mood. "Were you going to have waited any longer to ask? What would you have done if I hadn't had this – waited until I was completely naked to mention it, and then made me slip under the covers and just hang out while you ran to the market and picked up some condoms?"

Itachi shrugged one shoulder, his embarrassment obvious. "I have never done this before," he mumbled. "I am unaware of the common etiquette and procedures."

"Ah," Sakura responded, startled, and then she winced. All of the parts of her fantasy about Itachi knowing what to do and expertly guiding her through the novel experience disappeared, leaving behind far less reassuring images. "So it's like…the blind leading the blind, here."

Itachi blinked, appearing somewhat offended. "I have thought about it on certain occasions," he responded stiffly. "…In detail."

Sakura couldn't help but giggle at the sheer ridiculousness of the thought – she had never imagined that he'd actually think about what sex would be like between them like she had – and she batted her eyelashes, before slowly, experimentally grinding her hips against his. Despite the fact that such intimacy obviously didn't come easily to him and he still didn't seem one hundred percent relaxed and at ease, Itachi groaned softly, taking hold of her hips. "Meticulous detail," he murmured, kissing the sensitive spot behind her ear between words, and the rare, unguarded quality to his tone made her close her eyes and savor the sound. When it came to their relationship, Itachi had always kept his feelings – both emotional and physical – under incredibly tight restraint, and the thought of what he would be like without that was beginning to turn her on as much as much as his physical touches to her body had. He had always been so subtle about displaying the degree of his affection, caring…love…for her, quite unlike her open manner, until now. "…May I show you?"

His tone, even now, held the slightest tinge of uncertainty as he caught her gaze and held it, looking as always like he could hardly believe what was happening between them; as if this was just a wild, unbelievable dream, and because her throat was so tight and inexplicably closed over, so much that she couldn't trust herself to form words, Sakura responded with a passionate kiss.

The towel joined his shirt on the floor, and Itachi was vaguely aware that outside the warm, safe cocoon of Sakura's bedroom, there was a crash of thunder and then the unmistakable sound of a sudden torrent of rain drumming on the roof of the house, but he spared no more than the most fleeting passing thought for it, not when he could devote what felt like an entire focused hour of touching Sakura like this; seeing her like this; feeling her warm, soft, still slightly damp skin and slender, perfect curves underneath his hands and lips as she pressed herself into his touch; listening to the racing of her heart as he kissed her neck; feeling her run her hands down his chest, setting the nerve endings on fire, and rather clumsily undoing his pants; looking into her eyes as he carefully lowered her down onto the bed; feeling his mind being overwhelmed by the intensity of the emotion he felt for her—

The last thing Itachi felt as he looked into Sakura's eyes before they drifted shut as she arched her back beneath him, raking her fingernails against his skin as tiny sounds of ecstasy escaped her throat was…loss. As if he had run away from something or somewhere dark and terrible and found himself lost and alone in an unfamiliar place full of sunshine and breathtaking beauty, and despite the fact that he deserved to be chained up in the dark, dank cellar, he wanted to stay in this new, beautiful meadow forever. This close, his failing, badly blurred vision didn't matter. Her eyes were bright and green like springtime apples. Her lashes were long and pink. Trust and love for him was written in every miniscule feature of her face, and for the first night in seven years, there was no crushing guilt and no powerful self-loathing and no crippling anguish that made it hard to breathe – just Sakura, and the way she cried his name, and the expression on her face and feeling her body as she twisted against the sheets. And it felt so right and good and perfect, and there was no regret, none whatsoever, and he was lost; tangled up in her, and he had never imagined that anything could be this sweet.

* * *

The first sound that Sakura heard that morning, flitting against her consciousness and gradually pushing sleep away, was the pounding of rain against her window. The few rays of light that made it through her dark emerald green curtains were a heavy, ominous gray, and out of the warm, protective shell of her bed and blankets and Itachi's arms, the air in her room definitely had a chill to it.

Sakura rested her exhausted head down on the pillow again, pulling the blankets closer around herself and snuggling back against Itachi, careful not to wake him, although it took all of her self-control not to shiver at how novel waking up like this for the first time felt. The sensation of her completely bare skin against the sheets, the feeling of him curled up so intimately against her, with her face pressed against his neck and his arm wrapped around her waist, as their legs tangled together…she shifted her head against the pillow again, feeling the contrast of her gradually warming face against the cool silk pillowcase. Looking at it objectively, she knew that this was nothing compared to the levels of intimacy that they had reached last night. The rough, calloused feeling of Itachi's palms as he had gently cupped her breasts, making her arch into him and bite her lip to stifle a moan; the way she'd cried his name and how he'd whispered to her how beautiful she was; the somehow softer expression on his face when he had curled up beside her, afterwards, and stroked her hair and pressed kisses to her forehead, nose, cheeks, and lips until she drifted off to sleep. She'd stared at him through lowered eyelashes for several minutes in silence, trying to come to terms with the wave of nearly overwhelming emotions she felt.

The memory made Sakura squirm, unconsciously pressing herself even closer to her personal source of very welcome warmth, and to her displeasure, Itachi stirred. Despite the way she immediately went still again, his eyes drifted open and he looked at her languidly for a moment, and Sakura couldn't help but blush, unsure of what to say or do. It was unusual, but Itachi actually looked as content as she felt. For the first time since they had become re-acquainted, too, he actually looked _rested. _Like he'd actually slept during the night instead of tossing and turning; contemplating and worrying. "Good morning, Sakura," he murmured, his voice hoarse, before brushing his knuckles over her cheek in a feather-light caress.

It made her smile, momentarily forgetting her self-consciousness at how tangled her hair was and how she didn't normally look anywhere near her best in the morning, as well as any subconscious fears she had about things being awkward between the two of them. "Good morning, Itachi."

Itachi hesitated for just a fraction of a second, the expression on his face unreadable, before he leaned close and gave her a slow, tender kiss. Sakura was so surprised that it took her a moment to remember how to respond, but she linked her arms around his neck, resting against the pillows and enjoying the mutual display of affection wholeheartedly. Things had been somewhat difficult last night, at first, but eventually, it had felt unbelievably right between them, just as it did now.

Finally, they drew apart, and Itachi brushed his fingers through her hair, working out the tangles. "Sleep," he told her softly. "I'll bring food."

Sakura turned her face to the side a little, pressing a kiss to the inside of his palm, and Itachi had to stifle the utterly uncharacteristic and unprecedented urge to beam like a ray of sunshine. He settled for patting her hand somewhat awkwardly, before sliding out of bed, getting dressed, and making his way downstairs, noting the persistent sound of rain and the distant rumble of thunder. The Land of Lightning was noted for their violent spring storms. Even in the house, the air smelled of rain – a scent that he had always loved, because it was fresh and smelled of cleansing and renewal and new beginnings – and Itachi inhaled deeply, feeling the tangible sense of peace that washed over him.

He found his partner in the kitchen, sitting at the table and drinking tea, and despite the fact that Sakura had accused him of being oblivious many times, under varying contexts, Kisame couldn't fail to notice Itachi's hopelessly tousled hair, the fact that he was wearing the same clothes he had been last night, and the even more conspicuous fact that for once, the Uchiha actually seemed content and happy. To his credit, Kisame didn't even raise an eyebrow. "…Nice morning, isn't it, Itachi?"

"Yes," Itachi acknowledged seriously. "It is rather pleasant."

Hiding his amusement, Kisame watched Itachi move about the kitchen, matter-of-factly fixing two plates of waffles just how Sakura liked them, with lots of whipped cream and fresh strawberries. Finally, with one plate in each hand, he glanced out the window on his way back up the stairs and turned to his partner. "The weather does not seem conducive to further travel. Perhaps we should postpone our search for Roshi for the day. If he is still as ill as you said, we are in no danger of losing him."

It took a concerted effort for Kisame not to cough pointedly. Both of them knew that Itachi had hunted in much worse weather without complaint, but he agreed with a straight face. "Yeah, that's true. As a matter of fact, it's so bad out there that we'll probably have to stay in the house for the entire weekend."

Itachi forced himself to nod in his typical reserved fashion, without reacting to the rather conspicuous emphasis that Kisame had put on the last three words, despite the immediate path his traitorous mind had headed toward. He refrained from betraying even the slightest hint of emotion that his partner would undoubtedly jump on, but he took the stairs two at a time regardless, deciding to ignore the fact that he heard Kisame burst into laughter the moment he was out of sight.

He found Sakura emerging from her bathroom, dressed in her pajamas and smelling of her minty toothpaste again, and her face lit up in a smile when she saw him. "Waffles!" she beamed, obviously overjoyed. "You're the best!"

She grabbed his hand and tugged him to the bed, settling both of them down, and before Itachi could even blink, Sakura was already holding a waffle to his lips expectantly. He shied away, which only resulted in getting whipped cream smeared over his left cheekbone and a slice of strawberry almost going up his left nostril. He blinked, mortified, and Sakura giggled. "It's really good, I promise."

Itachi grudgingly opened his mouth a fraction of an inch, and Sakura smiled as she fed him a bite of waffle. "That's better. Now it's your turn."

She sat back, eyeing him expectantly, and Itachi took what was left of the waffle and offered it to her as best as he could, trying to accustom himself to the novel experience. She ate with considerably more delicacy than he had, and they took turns until the waffles were completely gone, at which point Sakura put her arms around his shoulders, slid into his lap, and proceeded to kiss the whipped cream off his cheek. "You're blushing," she whispered, and Itachi attempted to distract her by lifting one of the strawberry slices off the plate and tracing it across her lips, before leaning forward and kissing her softly. It felt sweet beyond belief in more ways than one, but despite that, he felt the faintest sense of unease stirring within him. This was all perfect. Almost too good to be true; the calm before the storm. Though he didn't want to believe it, his instincts had never before failed him in this regard, and he would be a fool to ignore them.

But what a calm it was, Itachi noted absentmindedly, pulling Sakura more fully into his arms. Part of his mind was telling him, insistently, to devote himself wholeheartedly to enjoying it; that this was the last one he would ever get to experience. The only one he had experienced at all for the past seven years.

And even though he didn't know exactly in what form it would manifest, part of his mind – the part that had become accustomed to expecting the worst – was already bracing itself for the storm that would come.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Hello again, everybody! I'm so sorry for the delay between updates. There has been a lot going on in my life; I have been going through a very rough and emotionally devastating breakup with my boyfriend of three years, and on top of that, it's approaching the end of the semester and school and work have been extremely demanding. It's been a highly stressful few weeks. But I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter and it made up for the long wait. As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	8. The Storm

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was marvelous enough to leave a review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Eight: The Storm_

* * *

Sakura pulled the curtains back from the window, bathing her bedroom in bright sunlight as she tied them to the side, allowing the light to stream in. She didn't fail to notice the way Itachi's posture straightened almost imperceptibly, the web of fine lines around his eyes decreasing somewhat as he finally stopped squinting so much, and she threw him a significant look as she pulled open her dresser drawer, arming herself with a roll of kunai. "You know, Itachi, you should really consider…"

"For the fifth time, Sakura, I do not need glasses," he interrupted dryly, although despite the increased light, his fingers still fumbled on the silver clasp of his Akatsuki cloak several times as he attempted to fasten it. After sliding the last kunai into its holster, Sakura made her way over to him and matter-of-factly fastened the clasp herself. Itachi thanked her softly, ignoring the second pointed glance that she directed into his eyes, and with a sigh, the pink-haired medic just patted him on the collarbone. Regardless of the fact that they had already gone over this so many times over the past few days, the unhealthily sharp, prominent ridge of the bone against her hand sent the usual alarm bells ringing, and she let her touch linger a little uncertainly. There could be no harm in giving it another try.

As if he had read her mind and fully intended to prevent it from happening, Itachi opened his mouth, but Sakura cut him off, taking his hand in hers. "Let me give you a physical exam," she began, in as persuasive a tone she could manage. "It's thorough, yes, but the diagnostic chakra I can use allows me to do it quickly and noninvasively. Please, Itachi. You look so…" she paused, trying to word it as sensitively as possible. "…Fatigued, and thin, and I'm worried about that constant cough—"

The expression on Itachi's face was unreadable, but he finally just placed one finger on her lips, making her fall silent. "It is unnecessary," he refused gently, but with the same stubborn hint of iron in his tone – suggesting that for some reason, he was truly adamant about not allowing it – as he had the last several times she had broached the topic. "It is just a mild case of chronic bronchitis, and I have been evaluated many times before. Even medical chakra cannot permanently cure the inflammation that causes the problem and prevent it from returning. But it is nothing to worry about, Sakura."

Sakura put her hands on her hips as she regarded him, still as unconvinced by this explanation as she had been every last time he had given it to her. "Yes, but—"

"There is no time for it, in any case," Itachi responded, looking out of the window and at the steadily rising sun. "We must leave early today or risk losing the target."

His tone made it clear that the discussion was closed, at least for now, and Sakura couldn't help the embittered sigh that worked its way free of her throat. As futile as it seemed, she would have to work on him some more later. It certainly felt like a losing battle, but somehow, despite how certain Itachi was of what he was saying, something told her that she couldn't just let this go. It was a cold, unpleasant feeling, but every single one of her instincts and her knowledge as a medic were telling her that there was something wrong there. What to do about it was the real question at hand – for as much as Itachi was a sensible, rational, compromising person in every other way, he seemed utterly determined to fight her on this, for reasons unknown.

Perhaps some of the tension and unhappiness showed on her face, because Itachi intertwined their fingers together, softly and reassuringly squeezing her hand until she forced herself to give him a small smile. They descended the steps in silence, only releasing one another when they entered the living room. Kisame was lounging near the entrance; as he saw them, he slipped his massive shark-scale sword into the customary sheath across his back, grinning with anticipation, and as always, Sakura was thankful that he made no comments upon seeing the two of them together. "Are you two ready for this?" he asked, as they came to join him. "I have the feeling that today's the day." He glanced at Itachi fleetingly. "…That today _has _to be the day."

Sakura just inclined her head briefly, sharing none of Kisame's tangible enthusiasm over what they were about to do, and she noted the tense set of Itachi's shoulders as he nodded in silence.

For the very first time in the five months that had passed since her head injury, finding Roshi was a simple matter. They were already aware that had been staying in a nearby town for the past week – unaware that his pursuers were so dangerously close – too ill of chakra exhaustion and physical strain to travel. Over dinner the previous night, the three of them had decided that today was probably going to be the day he would be forced to change locations again. No shinobi in his situation would take the risk of staying put in one area for more than seven days, though he was still physically weakened and vulnerable. As Kisame had stated, they had to strike now, because they wouldn't get a better opportunity to take down such a formidable, elusive opponent.

The thought of a conflict, even one this important, didn't bring forth the rush of mingled adrenaline and determination that she usually felt under these circumstances, though. Instead, she found this entire business oddly distasteful, and it was a struggle for Sakura to remain focused on the matter at hand. It took Kisame's hushed whisper, which made the tiny radio device secured against her ear vibrate slightly, to get her attention again. "There's somebody traveling civilian-style coming down the path toward you, Itachi, heading due east. He's trying to conceal his chakra, but I can tell that there's a genjutsu around him. The quantity of the chakra is still diminished, but I'm almost one hundred percent certain that it's him."

The three of them were spread out through the forest, looking down below them and taking cover among the branches and thick canopy of the towering, fifty-foot trees. Sakura glanced downwards, and through the leaves, she could make out the distinct figure of an elderly man with white hair hobbling down the path. He looked utterly harmless; like a civilian. A grandfather. He could have passed for one, if the subtle aura of the chakra around him wasn't so unmistakably distinctive, even after an attempted concealment. It made her even more uneasy to see how physically feeble and ill-looking he was; displaying all the signs of chronic chakra exhaustion, as well as overall physical strain and exertion from undertaking such strenuous physical activity. He had been on the run, relentlessly avoiding capture – avoiding _them _– for more than six months, after all. The actual sight of the effect that the manhunt had had on him made Sakura feel more than a little sick as all of her earlier reservations about this entire business came back with full force.

She wanted to say something – anything – to her teammates; perhaps try a last-ditch effort at convincing them that it was unethical to capture Roshi and drag him to a fate unknown while he was in this state. Before Sakura could think of where to begin, though, she was cut off by Itachi's barely audible, yet somehow regretful sigh, which made her radio piece vibrate again. "It is unnecessary for this to become a violent affair. I will approach the target first and engage him in a genjutsu designed to subdue."

"The Tsukiyomi," Kisame suggested. "Let's not take any chances with him. The frailty could be an act. Sakura and I will cover you."

"Very well."

Sakura couldn't bring herself to wish Itachi luck in this endeavor, and she gritted her teeth and stayed quiet, hating herself for her passive inaction. Regardless of what an immensely powerful shinobi Roshi had been in his younger days, he was drastically weakened now, and Itachi was an incredibly powerful opponent, to say the least. The fight would probably take all of two minutes. This sick, mysterious operation would be over very soon, and they could wait and see what kind of mission the fearsome _Leader _assigned them next. Maybe he'd want a bunch of schoolchildren assassinated, just because they were the kids of one of his political opponents or whatnot.

She didn't want to watch this, but for some reason, Sakura found that she couldn't turn away and simply redirect her gaze to the roughened tree bark underneath her fingertips. In less time than it took her to blink, there was a slight blur thirty feet to her left, and then Itachi materialized out of what looked like thin air right in front of Roshi on the path. The unnatural speed of the movement and the crimson-and-black pinwheels in his eyes as he directed his gaze at the older shinobi sent a shiver down her spine.

Time seemed to come to a stop, then, as several things happened in what felt like the same second. Roshi snapped his eyes shut instantaneously in order to avoid the genjutsu and lifted his hands. A wall of invisible but tangible chakra seemed to emanate from his body, making the very air around Itachi and Roshi – surrounding Roshi on all sides, presumably intended to protect him from attacks from other angles as well – tremble and blur. Sakura felt even Itachi's immense chakra falter somewhat under the assault, literally being forced back. Kisame leaped forward from his concealed position with unbelievable speed, drawing his sword, and at the same instant, she materialized at what she had calculated to be the weakest point in the wall, sinking to one knee and punching the ground so hard that it began to shake violently and fissures erupted in the dirt. The vibrations forced the protective chakra barrier to dissipate, but Roshi's fingers were already moving, even as he disappeared from one spot and re-materialized in another, and another, with staggering speed to avoid Kisame's attacks, and—

The signs of the hand seal came rapidly, but Sakura's sharp gaze locked onto the movements as she straightened, analyzing them, with their corresponding concentrations of chakra, just as quickly. _Dragon ox tiger snake…_

It was a medical ninjutsu, Sakura realized in an instant, feeling her stomach turn over as she pieced everything together. Even as she turned toward Itachi so fast that she pulled a muscle in her neck, she knew that it was too late and there was only a split second before he would feel the impact. She recognized it from her textbooks. It would disable the opponent by causing a crushing blow to the chest as the enemy chakra briefly compressed the lungs and heart. It was a terribly painful technique, but not fatal, because Roshi had failed to include the rabbit seal and the requisite pulse of chakra. The ninjutsu as he had executed it wasn't even enough to knock someone into unconsciousness; it would just drive them to their knees for a minute, and she reflected quickly that while Itachi gathered himself, she and Kisame would just have to act—

She felt the ninjutsu rushing past her. She had identified it correctly. But then, in a split second, everything went horribly, horribly wrong. Itachi's eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed, unconscious, as suddenly and limply as a puppet with the strings cut out from under them.

Sakura froze, momentarily unable to believe her eyes, and despite the fact that Roshi and Kisame were battling just several feet away from her, with massive water jutsu whirlpools roaring into the air, she found that she couldn't hear anything but the blood roaring in her ears; couldn't register anything more than the terrible shock that almost drove her to her knees. But she moved faster than she ever had in her life, materializing at Itachi's side, falling to her knees and grabbing his wrist hard, while pressing her hand desperately to the side of his neck, and she knew that she had never, ever before experienced a fear as gripping and intense and all-consuming as this. _No, no, no, it couldn't be…_

There was a sudden rush of movement at her side, and then Kisame was there too, the battle forgotten as he stared down at his teammate, aghast. "What happened?" he demanded roughly. "That ninjutsu – it wasn't…?"

Sakura could feel her breath coming faster and faster as she checked Itachi's pulse again and then placed one chakra-loaded palm on his heart, sending a pulse of diagnostic chakra straight through his chest. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like her entire body was shaking, and she bit her lip so much that she almost drew blood, forcing herself to remain calm and professional under pressure. "It was a medical ninjutsu, designed to briefly but powerfully compress the lungs and heart with enemy chakra," she said in a clipped voice, speaking very fast. "But it should never under any circumstances be fatal, or trigger serious damage or unconsciousness in any individual with a healthy heart. But for some reason, his pulse is weak and failing."

The color was beginning to drain out of Kisame's face. "What are we going to do?"

Sakura directed a brief glance upward, noticing that they were suddenly very alone in the clearing, but she could still sense Roshi's chakra signature as he rapidly fled from the scene, heading east. "You go and get Roshi. You said it yourself, we're not going to get an opportunity like this one again. I know you'll be able to catch up to him. I'll figure out how to take care of Itachi."

Kisame hesitated visibly, turning back and looking in the direction where Roshi had disappeared, obviously torn, before he finally shook his head and turned back to them. "I have my priorities," he said tersely. "Let's go."

He bent down, picking his partner's unresponsive body up and cradling it in his arms as easily as if Itachi was just a rag doll. Sakura grabbed Kisame's free arm, twisting her fingers into the material of his cloak. With one effortless combined pulse of chakra, the three of them were standing back in their base, in the hallway outside of Itachi's bedroom. Rather than spare any time rummaging through the pockets of his cloak for keys, Sakura drew one chakra-loaded fist back and punched the door open, shattering the lock, and the two of them hastily carried Itachi in, before carefully laying him out on the bed.

He was still completely motionless, and the sight of somebody she cared about and loved so, _so _deeply, lying there as if dead, made Sakura's skin crawl as she hastily pulled off his Akatsuki cloak and shirt. She told herself not to panic and not to jump to conclusions; not to let the sight of him looking like this affect her psychologically. She took care not to even direct the most fleeting of glances at Itachi's face (his closed eyes, which could be so warm and kind in those rare moments; his lips, which would curve up into the smallest of smiles when they spent time together; the stress lines on the sides of his face; the slight frown on his forehead, even now) because of the way it made her throat close over and her eyes burn with tears and her chest constrict painfully. It was a distraction she didn't need and a distraction she couldn't afford, because it would stand in the way of what she had to do. _Detach yourself, Sakura, _she ordered herself ruthlessly_. He's just another patient. Just think of it as being like a case study from one of your textbooks. There is a problem to be solved here and I need to fit together the pieces. _

But thinking that was a lot easier than actually doing it, and when Kisame dropped her medical textbooks – the three she'd had originally, as well as another several large tomes that she had borrowed from the library downstairs – down at the foot of Itachi's bed and she met his gaze, he looked as disturbed as she felt.

"His pulse is getting steadily weaker," she said, as calmly as she could, and then she lifted her right hand, drawing chakra to it, and Kisame raised his eyebrows as he felt the soft yet strong, tangible electrical current emanating from her hand. "We can't take any chances of him slipping away on us."

He had never seen a medic-nin use chakra like this before – it seemed unconventional and innovative, to say the least – but he nodded anyway, swallowing over his dry throat. As sweet and trusting and innocent as he had (perhaps mistakenly) viewed Sakura as over the past five months…the look in her eyes and determined, focused set of her face reminded Kisame powerfully that this was still the kunoichi whose extraordinarily adept healing had saved the Kazekage's older brother from certain death at the hands of Sasori's most lethal poisons. Even though her specific memories of those events were gone, the essence of her powerful skills remained. "Do it," he agreed.

Sakura inclined her head resolutely and then placed her hand down on Itachi's heart. As Kisame watched, morbidly fascinated, the electrical current bolstered his partner's failing heartbeat, causing his chest to rise and fall steadily, although he showed no signs of regaining consciousness. The missing-nin released a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. "No more immediate danger of the heartbeat stopping?" he asked gruffly, unused to the feeling of knowing so little about what was going on. This was one of the few facets of shinobi work that he had little expertise in.

"No. Although we are working on a time limit to solve the problem. This method can't be used indefinitely." Sakura stared at Itachi's chest, her gaze becoming a little unfocused as she thought over the issue intently. "…The first logical step to come to is that this ninjutsu shouldn't have had this sort of effect on somebody with a normally functioning, healthy heart. Therefore we must draw the conclusion that Itachi has some sort of cardiovascular abnormality or irregularity."

She closed her eyes, considering the situation, all too aware of the tension that tightly gripped every single one of her muscles and made her stomach twist up in knots, and of the palpable stress that emanated off Kisame as well – although for entirely different reasons. On the surface, considering his extraordinary physical capabilities, Itachi seemed to be a healthy shinobi. The only troubling symptom that she had ever seen in him was that persistent cough, and even then, she had never caught him coughing up blood or exhibiting any of the more serious danger signs… "Kisame?" she asked, at last. "You've known him much longer than I have. Has he ever mentioned anything of that nature to you?"

Kisame felt his shoulders stiffen at the question, though he had been dreading it from the minute she had first opened her mouth. He knew that he was supposed to deny it, even though that would be a lie, of course…but it was Itachi's best-kept secret, and despite his deep loyalty to his partner, briefly, he was conflicted. If he told Sakura the truth, maybe it would be helpful in this awful situation, and he didn't like deception and deceit, period, which was why he found Itachi's entire grand plan to be so incomprehensible. Furthermore, withholding critical information of this nature from a medic-nin had troubling ethical implications, and it seemed even more so when this medic-nin herself was so involved with Itachi, personally.

In any case, the thing that was worrying him so much that Itachi looked as though he was in critical enough condition that he could actually die by the end of the day, and then how would his plan for his final confrontation with his brother matter, anyway? Was there nothing to lose by telling Sakura the truth? Even more than that, the really troubling thing was…if he kept silent, could he really take that kind of chance with Itachi's life? But if he told Sakura the truth, what would be the consequences?

It was a quandary. Instinct and his own personal moral code instructed Kisame to speak up, but seven years of working with Itachi, being unquestionably loyal to him, and knowing more than anybody else what his partner would want, forced him to remain silent. But he felt the weight of Sakura's expectant gaze on him, and Kisame shook his head once, before unsticking his throat long enough to mutter his reply (_lie)_. "No. Never."

Sakura sighed, disappointed, before lifting both hands to her temples as she continued to think aloud, for his benefit as well as her own, and Kisame couldn't help but notice that the strain written on her face and contained in her petite frame made her look years older than her age. "Alright then. It is entirely possible that something could have been wrong and Itachi had no knowledge of it himself. He thought he just had a mild case of chronic bronchitis, but that could have been a misdiagnosis, or a faulty self-diagnosis. But regardless, whatever it is, I have to sort out the damage done by the enemy chakra as soon as possible. There could be bruising of the heart, a degree of internal bleeding, even paralysis of certain small areas…"

Kisame eyed her warily. The words coming out of the pink-haired kunoichi's mouth struck him as potentially dangerous. If she were to discover Itachi's secret…but no, it couldn't be. How would she, anyway? Perhaps if she sliced his chest open, she would be able to see the congenital deformity of his heart, but that seemed impractical. In any case, though, he had no idea how Sakura could look inside Itachi without opening him up. Even chakra couldn't do that, right? Perhaps there was no cause to worry regardless, since she had said that her priority was simply to correct the damage done by the Four-Tails' jutsu first, and there was no guarantee that she would find anything incriminating while doing so. Still, he felt the need to confirm. "How are you going to do that? You're not going to have to…perform open-heart surgery or anything like that, are you?"

Inexplicably, Sakura gave a mirthless laugh. "I hope it doesn't come to that. But not yet, anyway." She lapsed into silence for a moment, frowning at the artificial rise and fall of Itachi's chest as she began to plan out the exact sequence of events that would have to be undertaken, as if she was going to write an essay delineating this sequence shortly. She had to do three things: firstly, find out what cardiovascular abnormality had caused this; secondly, repair the damage caused by the forceful blow of chakra; and, lastly…she didn't know if it would be possible, but she knew that if she found something, she _had _to try to cure him, to the best of her abilities. Serious heart conditions, if left untreated, were often fatal. Most heart conditions were congenital, which meant that Itachi could have been suffering in silence for the past twenty years, while his physical condition continued to deteriorate. Often, in such cases, there was a point where a person could become too far gone because of the extent of damage that was done – and the thought of losing him was unconscionable. Just thinking about it made her feel oddly queasy.

"Is there anything I can do?" Kisame asked quietly, seeing that the kunoichi had slipped off into a world of her own, and for some reason, he hated the feeling of helplessness that swept over him, as much as he knew that it was unavoidable. At least Sakura was around in the first place. If she hadn't been… "If you want food, or extra chakra from Samehada, or if you need to rest first before you start the healing, I can keep the electrical current going."

"Not at the moment, but thank you so much," Sakura spared a moment to look up, and she gave Kisame such a genuine smile that it took a concerted effort not to look down and avoid her gaze guiltily. "I really do appreciate it."

Well, if that didn't make him feel like slime. Kisame cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'll bring some ramen up in a while."

He slipped out, closing the door behind them and cloaking them in the dim light, and Sakura took a deep, calming breath. There was no need for open-heart surgery with certain diagnostic chakra techniques, but they required an exorbitant amount of specialized chakra control to execute. She was familiar with the textbook technique, but if only she could remember whether she had ever used it before…

Refusing to let frustration ruin her concentration, Sakura spared a moment to take Itachi's hand in hers and caress his still fingers gently. She had to do this right, for him.

She placed both of her hands on his chest, shutting her eyes to help her focus and remove distractions from any external stimuli, before beginning to carefully probe the affected area with her chakra, directing it to sink beneath the layers of skin and target the vital organs. It was a strange feeling – the sensation felt almost as if she was giving him an internal physical exam with her own hands. In the dark. Blind. Relying on only her own sense of touch and familiarity with the human anatomy to serve as a guide. It took almost fifteen minutes of careful exploration to familiarize herself with his heart and the surrounding area, an image of it appearing in her mind's eye.

After another fifteen minutes of work, directing her chakra to the area which demanded her immediate attention, Sakura let her eyes drift open and she drew back, fixing Itachi with an unnerved look. It took a few moments to even make sense of all the confused thoughts that were racing through her mind, and even though she had memorized the complete anatomy of the human heart in detail, she still found the need to reach for the detailed diagram in the appendix of one of her books. She held it open in front of her, staring at the page blankly.

The first thing that she had found and fixed could almost be called straightforward. The force of the chakra compression had caused a slight rupture within the heart, resulting in internal bleeding. It had been a fairly simple matter to mend the tear, so to speak. Itachi was no longer in any danger from the effect of the ninjutsu, but she had chosen to keep him under anyway. Because it was the implications of what she'd had to do, and what she had discovered in the process of doing it, that startled her so much.

Sakura took in all the details of the diagram unblinkingly, swallowing over her dry throat. It provided her with no comfort. She was familiar with what a healthy heart should look, sound, and feel like, and Itachi's had been abnormal on all counts. Not to mention, she had taken a quick look around his lungs as well, and… She gritted her teeth, reaching up and raking her fingers through her hair, before gazing down at Itachi again, trying her hardest to fight the fresh wave of fear and worry that washed over her at the mere thought, making her hands tremble. To her astonishment, she had found that his lungs were literally ravaged by chronic respiratory infections and disease. For somebody who appeared more or less healthy on the outside, with fairly mild physical symptoms, internally, Itachi was in very bad condition, to say the least.

Sakura pulled her pile of books toward her and began to flip each one open, staring at the indexes, as she felt a potent mix of mingled desperation, determination, and adrenaline coursing through her veins. True, she didn't know exactly what the problem was, yet, but Itachi's lungs and heart were damaged enough that she knew at least that he was in critical condition, in danger of degenerating even further. And she would not – _could _not – allow that to happen. Her handwriting was a little tremulous, as she took a pen off Itachi's nightstand and began to note down the list of troubling symptoms he was displaying in the margin of one of her pages. The list – the unusual heart murmurs, the palpitations and skipped beats, the abnormality in the wall that separated the upper heart chambers, the lung scarring and lesions, among others – stretched halfway down the page.

She read, rotating back and forth through the ten books and spreading them out in a circle around her, referencing each symptom on the list and checking the appropriate pages as she went, for so long that her head and eyes started to ache mercilessly and the small black letters eventually began to run together, blurring into indistinct lines. Sakura shook her head against the fatigue, biting her lip as she underlined the applicable passages, compiling all of her notes on a few more spare sheets of paper. And slowly, very slowly, piece by piece, everything began to come together into a cohesive – albeit extraordinarily complicated – picture that made sense, even to her exhausted mind.

The abnormality she had detected in the atrial wall, which led to the strange heart murmurs, palpitations, and skipped beats, as well as the unusual feeling of blood flowing between the left and right atria, was known as an _atrial septal defect, _a fairly rare congenital heart condition that could cause heart failure and death if left untreated. The symptoms included fatigue and frequent, persistent, and long-lasting lung infections, which explained the damage that she had seen in Itachi's lungs – the scarring from what could have been a bad case of pneumonia, and the lesions most likely from tuberculosis. If she had to take a guess, she would predict that Itachi had a weakened immune system, which meant that not only was he prone to developing infections, but he could not fight them off once they were in his body either. Most worryingly, because of the repeated lung infections, and in turn, the heart defect, his airways had become terribly scarred, and such damage impeded their ability to move air in and out of the body. As if all of the other things weren't bad enough, this damage to the airways could lead to serious health problems like respiratory and heart failure.

Sakura released her pen, unclenching her clammy palms and leaning forward, shuddering with exhaustion and tension. Her shoulders and back throbbed painfully as she raked her fingers through her hair, before pressing her thumbs against her pounding temples. There were so many, many factors here; so many conditions to address… Working to heal this would not be simple. The heart problem would have to be dealt with first, which required mending the hole in the atrial wall. Then she would have to work to eliminate the scarred tissue in the airways and then deal with the lungs themselves. This wasn't as easy as healing an internal injury to the stomach, kidneys, or liver, or any type of flesh wound. This made even poison extraction seem straightforward.

Sakura took a deep breath, and then exhaled, trying to force her muscles to relax. She couldn't help but reach out and smooth Itachi's bangs off his forehead tenderly, before letting her fingers trail downward, caressing the somewhat gaunt lines of his cheekbones. It seemed so strange to think it, but in reflection, she was overwhelmingly thankful that he had been hit by Roshi's ninjutsu today. If that had never happened, who knew if she would have ever had a chance to give him this physical examination and discover all these problems before it became too late? She sat, lost in thought, for a few minutes, holding his hand in her own and rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand reassuringly. Just like Itachi had helped her after her head injury, this was her chance to help him. The mere thought of what could have been sent a shiver down her spine.

Sakura bent down for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, before straightening with a new sense of resolve, and summoning twin coats of chakra to her hands. She would have to do as much preliminary work on the heart, lungs, and airway as she could today, for as long as her chakra reserves would hold out. But this would be a lengthy, sustained process. Continued work would be necessary on a daily basis for at least one week. She took a few seconds to brace herself, reviewing what to do first and how to do it, and then, after a quick, uncharacteristic prayer, the pink-haired kunoichi placed her hands on Itachi's chest, beginning the healing process.

From the instant that her chakra made contact with the afflicted area, Sakura lost herself, working with careful, methodical precision, as the minutes slowly stretched into hours. Kisame's eventual knocks on the door and quiet statement that he had brought her some food didn't register at all, and she was blind to the slow changes of light, fading from daylight to afternoon to evening, outside of the curtains. It was only when she felt the steady, powerful strength of her chakra flow begin to ebb and falter after the hours of sustained use, and when the heaviness in her eyes and soreness in her muscles was beginning to impede even her razor-sharp concentration, that Sakura finally drew back, surveying Itachi appraisingly as she wearily drew the back of her hand against her forehead. That was as much as it was safe to do for one day. As tempting as it was to press on, she couldn't take the risk of working on him when she wasn't at one hundred percent. Even the smallest mistake caused by a slip in chakra control or exhaustion could have dire consequences.

Sakura sighed, putting aside her books so that she had the freedom of movement to gently pull Itachi's covers up over his chest, taking care to keep him warm. She had checked several times, and hadn't done any new work for the past half hour, as she had monitored his progress and response to the changes she had made already. Everything looked all right – more than all right, really. He was stable, and peacefully unconscious, and he would be safe for the night. She'd return for another healing session at dawn tomorrow.

Momentarily overwhelmed by the tumultuous emotions she had experienced throughout the course of the day, Sakura leaned forward, awkwardly embracing Itachi as best as she could, considering how unable he was to reciprocate the contact. This morning, he had woken her up with soft kisses to her forehead and nose and teased her about the fact that she talked in her sleep. Three short hours later, he was in critical condition, his heart in danger of failing. Within another hour, she had found out what dire, life-threatening circumstances he had been in, apparently completely without his knowledge, and now…now, he it looked like he had a chance.

Sakura stayed there for several long moments, her forehead pressed against Itachi's chest, before she rose, kissing him goodnight. When she stood, she staggered and almost fell, the floor spinning beneath her feet, and she had to reach out and grab a handful of the curtains to stay upright. Black pinpricks threatened to overcome her vision, no matter how much she blinked and took deep breaths, and it was only then that she realized just how depleted she was. Putting one foot in front of the other and making her way down the stairs was a difficult matter, regardless of the help of the railing. By the time she had reached the foot of the stairs, Sakura wobbled from one end of the hallway to the other, narrowly avoiding falling against the opposite wall with a solid thump. She was vaguely aware of Kisame noticing the disturbance, from his place sitting on the sofa with a bowl of ramen next to him and a book in one hand. He looked up at her, alarmed, as he rose from his seat. "Hey, kid, are you—"

"Fine," Sakura mumbled, although she looked so unsteady that Kisame still made his way toward her and guided her to the sofa. She collapsed, curling into a ball without further ado, and he hurried into the kitchen, warming up the large bowl that he had set aside for her earlier, with a quick pulse of heated chakra directed to the palm of his hands.

Though the pink-haired kunoichi looked listless and appeared to be on the verge of falling asleep, he pressed the bowl of savory noodles and beef into her hands nevertheless. "Eat. You need to regain your strength."

Sakura picked at the noodles at first, looking as if she was barely able to summon the strength to chew and swallow, and then began to eat with more enthusiasm, obviously realizing how famished she was. Kisame watched her warily, unable to suppress the deep apprehension he felt as to the state of his partner for any longer. She had been at it for so long…Itachi must have been really messed up. He allowed her five more minutes to wolf down the necessary sustenance before speaking. "How is he?" he asked tentatively. "Is there…anything wrong with his condition?"

Sakura took her last bite of noodles and drank down the remaining hot, spicy soup in one gulp, before putting the empty bowl on the table and settling herself down again. Now that the hollow, empty ache in her stomach had been dealt with, she felt as heavy as if her entire body had been turned to lead. "Not anymore," she mumbled, too exhausted to formulate a more thorough, cohesive response.

Kisame almost nodded, but something small and indescribable about her word choice alarmed him. He felt his shoulders stiffen, as he lowered his chopsticks back down into his bowl without taking another bite. "…What exactly do you mean by that?" he asked, the apprehension he felt earlier returning with full force.

He was greeted only by a soft snore, and all the breath left the Mist missing-nin's body as he looked up, seeing that Sakura was already sound asleep, lulled by the sound of the pounding rain against the roof, the food, and her chakra exhaustion. Despite the fact that his instincts were most definitely telling him that something was going on here beneath the surface and he wanted badly to demand answers, Kisame didn't have the heart to wake her. After just staring uneasily for another several minutes, he went back to reading, the sense of foreboding he felt increasing by the minute.

* * *

By the time he woke up the next morning, even though the sun had just risen, Sakura was gone from the place on the sofa that she had fallen asleep on the previous evening; the blanket he had tucked around her folded neatly and resting on one of the cushions, and Kisame could hear her moving about upstairs. He knew that there was no point in trying to go upstairs and interrupt her – he had the feeling that when medic-nin got like this, flaming meteors could rain from the sky all around them and they still wouldn't notice because they were that wrapped up in healing their patient – so he had no choice but to wait it out. When just sitting downstairs became too unbearable, he went out to see if he could gather any intelligence on what direction the Four-Tails had headed after their conflict earlier in the week. Even then, his ability to focus on the mission was compromised somewhat.

It was late when he returned, and Kisame was startled to find Sakura actually out and about, polishing off the leftover noodles from the night before with obvious relish. Her skin was ashen from the exertion; her normally well-tended-to hair thrown up into a messy, tangled ponytail; there were dark circles under her eyes, and her chakra levels were once again startlingly low, but for some reason, she actually seemed happy. When he dared to bring up the topic of Itachi's condition again, she brightened up even more, and immediately and earnestly went off on a long discussion filled with medical jargon that he couldn't understand. But every once in a while, she would shudder and begin to say how lucky it had been that Itachi had been hit with that ninjutsu, because otherwise they would have never known, and the consequences could have been…

She always trailed off then, looking disturbed – just as she did now, before dropping her bowl in the kitchen sink, and telling him goodnight, and that she was going to check on Itachi once again before getting some rest. Kisame just watched her go, leaning heavily against the railing to support herself, and once she disappeared from sight, he sighed, leaning forward and pressing his palms against his aching head, thinking longingly of the sake in the cabinet. All of this made the conflict that he had experienced when debating whether or not to tell Sakura about Itachi's problem, in the immediate aftermath of the accident, seem trivial.

Because now it turned out that, contrary to his initial beliefs, she had found out – well, the girl had been trained by Tsunade herself; it shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. From what he had gathered from what Sakura had said, she was _fixing _it. She was curing Itachi of the life-threatening affliction that played a central role in Itachi's grand plan regarding his final confrontation with Sasuke, even though Itachi had always believed such a thing wasn't possible. Kisame had never seen this coming, and the worst thing was that he didn't know whether to interfere or not. Part of him demanded that he should, because Sakura was unknowingly unraveling all of his partner's best-laid plans, and he could not allow that. He had always been unquestioningly loyal to Itachi, regardless of the fact that they disagreed on certain ideals and principles. This loyalty demanded that he neutralize anything that stood in the way of something so critically important to Itachi – just as Itachi would do the same for him.

Kisame closed his eyes, feeling the tension knot up his shoulders. This was hardly a straightforward situation, though. Firstly, he couldn't interfere without incapacitating Sakura in some way, and maybe this was foolish – again, he would have had no qualms whatsoever about killing her if they had met in battle – but in this context, he could not do that without compunction. And it was difficult to admit, but…well, he had always been honest with Itachi about how much he personally disapproved of his plan. The extraordinary deceit went against everything he believed in. More than that, though, after so long, the Uchiha had become a friend to him. As a shinobi, he did understand the idea of sacrifice. He would sacrifice himself for the mission on any given day; he would rather die than betray any information to enemy shinobi. And yet, it was still difficult to imagine Itachi willingly giving up his life like this. It was a fairly short, sad life; not fully lived by any stretch of the imagination…

Kisame stood abruptly, heading for the cabinet and retrieving the bottle of sake and one shot glass, and he measured a drink out for himself, lost in thought. Even if he wanted to interfere in some way without physically incapacitating Sakura…how was that possible? He could never say anything to her to make her stop what she was doing without arousing her suspicions in some way. She was under the impression that his poor partner had been utterly unaware of what was going on inside him, and was suffering with a false diagnosis. The knowledge that Itachi actually _had _been aware of his illness, and was in fact biding his time until it claimed his life, would undoubtedly trigger a wave of horrified inquiries.

There was no question about it, really…he had no choice but to let her continue. His hands were tied.

Kisame tossed back another shot, closely followed by several more, and even though he knew it was all in his mind, he couldn't help but feel Itachi's silent, reproachful glare (_how could you, Kisame? How could you stand by and allow this?)_ echoing within the back of his consciousness.

* * *

_One Week Later_

* * *

Itachi's eyes snapped open, and he breathed in.

For a moment, his chest clenched up with unbearable panic, his gaze flickering from one end of the ceiling to another in disoriented agitation. It took several moments for his muscles to relax as he pieced together his surroundings, and all the breath left his body in a slow, wary exhalation as he tried to force his weary, lethargic mind to cooperate with his demands. He was in his room now, but the last conscious memory he had…was of the clearing. The fight with the Four-Tails. The blur of Roshi's movement that he had been unable to distinguish because of his failing vision – hand seals, he had realized, too late. Then the terrible, crushing pain in his chest; the way his heart had skipped a beat, and the feeling of it caving in, as if it had been squeezed by an iron fist and held in a vice-like grip. His vision had gone black, and he had been afraid like he had never been afraid before, (_what will happen to Sasuke now?) _at the thought that his moment of carelessness had derailed all of his meticulous plans, and then…well, then there had been nothing.

Itachi closed his eyes for a moment, feeling his heart race, and he forced himself to breathe in and out normally as he assessed the situation. His chest. The pain was gone. He was in his own room. Safe. Safe. Everything was all right. He turned his head to the side, trying to focus his gaze, and was met by a blur of pink and red. He blinked a few times, struggling to push himself up into a sitting position, and he sighed softly when he realized that it was Sakura, curled up into a ball at his side, motionless and sound asleep. He could see the deep shadows under her eyes – of course she would have been the one to heal the internal bruising after the attack, and he was all too grateful for her care. Now that the initial disorientation was beginning to wear off, he found that he felt somehow more rested than he had in a long time as well. She must have ensured that he had slept through the night. Itachi reached out and carefully smoothed a few locks of tangled hair away from her face, before gently stretching her limbs into a more comfortable position.

She mumbled something under her breath and rolled over, burying her face into the pillow, and his lips quirked up the tiniest bit at the ends as he decided to let her sleep. Itachi's muscles were surprisingly stiff as he made his way into the bathroom to freshen up – he could hardly bend to brush his teeth – as if he hadn't moved them for days. Strangely enough, he still felt the rigidity in his body even after half an hour of a scalding hot shower, which was usually enough to relieve the soreness he felt after a rough fight. Eventually, his thoughts drifted to the Four-Tails and how his moment of weakness must have allowed Roshi to escape, therefore setting the hunt back another day, and Itachi frowned, thinking of the fact that they had just a few days remaining until Madara would undoubtedly check in on them. All hell would break loose if he discovered that they had not only failed to capture the Four-Tails, but also disobeyed his direct order to use Sakura as bait for Naruto…

Despite his preoccupation, as he stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself off and get dressed, Itachi stilled as his gaze swept over the small bathroom window, his prior train of thought fading away. On the last morning that he remembered, the morning of his injury, after the initial sunrise, the sky had become overcast; covered in a blanket of thick gray clouds, threatening rain. Kisame had mentioned that the storm wouldn't pass quickly and they should try to capture Roshi before their plans were complicated by inclement weather. And yet, today, the sky was a bright, clear, cloudless blue. Most notably, the cherry blossom trees had bloomed. They had been dormant the previous time he had looked at them.

For some reason, a tiny shiver of trepidation ran down his spine. Exactly how long had he been unconscious? It certainly seemed like much more than the one day he had estimated.

Itachi quietly left his room and made his way downstairs, feeling somehow off balance in a way that he couldn't place. The downstairs was eerily silent, but he entered the kitchen to find Kisame at the table, hunched over a map. His footsteps made the floorboards creak ever so slightly, and his partner whirled around, startled. By the expression on his face, Itachi could tell that Kisame had been expecting to see Sakura, and the Uchiha nodded a greeting as he sunk into one of the empty chairs. He badly needed a cup of tea, but that could wait a few minutes . "Hello, Kisame."

"Itachi," Kisame responded, astonished, before he grinned, recovering from his initial shock. "Glad to see you're up and about again. We were…worried."

Itachi inclined his head calmly, but he noticed the sharpness of his partner's gaze as he surveyed him. For a moment, there was confusion at the degree of Kisame's scrutiny. Had he been more critically injured than he expected? But his first priority was to check on the state of their mission, as he had been the one to compromise it. "Did we lose Roshi?"

Kisame shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, for a while, but it's no big deal. I know where we can find him now, and he should be staying put for a couple of days."

"We could resume the search today." Itachi glanced out the window, noticing the position of the sun in the sky. It was much later than they typically began work. "Sakura is still resting, though."

Kisame nodded, his eyes fixed on the map again, and Itachi couldn't fail to notice that there was something off about his tone, this time. Like he was struggling with whether to say something or not. "Yeah. She hasn't left your side or got more than a few hours of catnaps for the past several days."

The words – _several days –_ drew Itachi's immediate attention, and he felt his muscles tensing up even further as he sat up straight. Kisame still seemed uncomfortable; somehow reluctant to meet his gaze, and it took an effort to keep his voice even and controlled, without betraying any of the trepidation he felt. "Kisame. How long have I been out?"

Kisame sighed shortly, looking at him for a moment and realizing that the question demanded a response, before glancing away. "…Seven days," he replied, the words barely audible.

Itachi sat back in his chair, momentarily stunned. Seven days…that explained the terrible stiffness in his muscles; the taste in his mouth when he had woken up; the fact that his long hair had looked more greasy and unkempt than it ever had before. Sakura had kept him unconscious for seven days. But seven days was an unnecessarily long recovery period for something as comparatively minor as bruising to the heart…

While thinking about it, he breathed in. And out. And that was when the realization – the realization of why exactly he had felt so off balance; of why Sakura had kept him under for seven days – hit Itachi like a ton of bricks.

In the bathroom, when he had first woken up – for the first time in more years than he could remember – he hadn't staggered to the sink and felt that terrible raw, convulsive ache and the deep-down bubbling in his chest, and then proceeded to cough up blood. In the shower, he hadn't experienced a single fit of shortness of breath or dizziness; hadn't had to cling to the tile and fight for every breath that he took until the fit passed. His chest and throat hadn't hurt – didn't hurt right now. He could breathe in and out without that sickening rattling deep down inside him, without it hurting. Since the moment his eyes had snapped open so suddenly, he hadn't even coughed once. He had been feeling so strange because for the first time in more than a decade, he was truly well. Healthy. Healed. _Whole._

Slowly, Itachi became aware that his trembling hands were curled into white-knuckled fists, gripping the edge of the table, and he closed his eyes, willing himself to control his breathing. He felt nothing but a degree of shock he hadn't experienced since the day that he received the orders to annihilate his own family – and again, on the night that he actually did it. He was vaguely conscious of the fact that Kisame had started speaking quietly and urgently, trying to explain himself. The fact that by the time he figured out what was going on and that Sakura had found out the truth while healing him, it was too late. And the all reasons why he couldn't stop her from finishing what she had started.

He kept talking and talking, and finally, there was nothing but an unbearably heavy silence in the kitchen. "I'm sorry," Kisame said, his tone almost pleading, and it wasn't enough; it could never be enough, but what else was there to say? The expression on Itachi's face was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The deathly calm and stillness on his features was disconcerting, and Kisame was almost afraid of his reaction.

Nearly a minute passed before Itachi could bring himself to speak. "Do not apologize," he managed automatically, the words coming out mechanical and wooden. "It was not your fault."

He couldn't think straight. He tried to recover some of his composure; to gather himself again, but it seemed to be in vain. He had the feeling that part of him, somewhere deep inside, was breaking down and descending into a state of confusion and screaming panic, but most of his mind had numbed to the shock already. There was no time for panic and shock; for sitting motionless on his bed for two days while he attempted to think things through. There was no time even for _how, _and _why, _or assigning blame, or regretting bringing Sakura into their team because none of this would have happened if not for her, or hating himself for being weak and pathetic enough to be struck by Roshi's ninjutsu instead of leaping out of the way. All of that…was just counterproductive at the moment. What was done was done, and although he was deeply shaken, he knew that this didn't have to be irreparable damage. The situation demanded a drastic reconfiguration now.

Itachi closed his eyes briefly, deep in thought, as he analyzed the situation with as much detachment as he could. His chest and stomach were still unpleasantly clenched in knots. But the fact remained that there was no time for a reconfiguration – and even if there had been time, more importantly, there was no _room _for one. It was true that Sakura had just changed (decimated, destroyed, ruined) everything, but… _Stop, _Itachi told himself harshly, _and regain focus. _

The answer came to him almost immediately once he did, though, with an uncanny sense of clarity. When it came down to it; when he looked at it objectively…this drastic change only played as large of a role as he would allow it to, and he knew with a composed, iron-clad certainty, without a tinge of doubt, what he had to do.

Itachi let his eyes drift open, meeting Kisame's apprehensive gaze calmly. "I will not deviate from my plan," he said softly. "Nothing will change. I will still confront my younger brother at the location we agreed upon…all that will be different is that now, it will Sasuke be doing more of the work to eliminate me, rather than the frailty caused by my condition."

Words failed Kisame initially, and he just stared at his partner numbly, trying to figure out whether Itachi had really just said what he thought he did. His fingernails dug so hard into the palms of his hands that the skin threatened to bleed. Out of the million things that the former Mist-nin wanted to say, one won out. "…Are you insane?" he finally demanded, his voice hushed. "Your little brother can't kill you, now that you can finally fight with one hundred percent of your stamina and strength again! He'd die trying!"

Itachi tapped his fingers on the kitchen table, considering his partner's words. "You underestimate him," he said finally, his tone as mild as if they were talking about a game of shogi. "His skills have advanced more than I estimated. Sasuke will come closer than anybody else."

Kisame stayed mutinously silent, unable to comprehend the levels of idiocy coming out of the Uchiha's mouth. There was so much that he wanted to say, but he couldn't. He knew; he had always known, that Itachi's mind was made up. He loved – had _always _loved – that brother of his with such tremendous, all-encompassing devotion, that nothing could stand in the way of Itachi's determination to live and die for him. Not the village's orders that Itachi eliminate every last man, woman, and child of the Uchiha clan. Not even the chance, for the very first time, of having a healthy life to live. Until now, Kisame had never quite fully comprehended the depths of Itachi's willingness to sacrifice everything for the things that were important to him. Like the safety of Konoha, and Sasuke.

He became aware that Itachi was looking at him, a strangely intense expression on his face, and Kisame was just about to speak when Itachi beat him to it. "Kisame. Though you will not enter the meeting point with me, you will still keep an eye on the proceedings from outside."

Kisame nodded tersely, knowing that this tone brooked no argument. Yes. He was familiar with this. He would keep an eye on the proceedings from outside. He would be the one to enter immediately afterward and collect his partner's lifeless, broken body, and prevent it from falling into the hands of any enemy shinobi who would be interested in acquiring the bloodline limit. Surprisingly enough, though, Itachi continued to speak, his voice getting quieter, although no less intense, and Kisame's curiosity was piqued. There had never been any additions to this part of the plan before. "In light of recent events, however…if Sasuke fails to kill me; if he fights to the extent of his strength and collapses before he can finish the task—"

Itachi trailed off, searching for a delicate way to phrase it, as was his custom – and the realization, when it came, of what his partner was trying to ask of him made Kisame's blood run cold. Noting the expression on his face, Itachi paused. "No," Kisame managed. It took all the effort he had to keep from yelling it loudly enough that it would surely wake Sakura, and he still couldn't hide the revulsion in his tone. "Itachi. _No._"

"Kisame," Itachi said quietly, and the tension showed in his face as well. "Think rationally. I suppose that I will be mostly gone already, and perhaps unconscious as well. You will be doing me a favor. A swift and merciful death is preferable to slowly bleeding out, internally or externally. To all of my systems shutting down, one by one – or to being captured by Konoha or another village. It would be—"

"Stop," Kisame interrupted wearily, the entire conversation making him feel oddly sick to his stomach. "Just…be quiet for a second, all right?"

Itachi fell silent, and there was another heavy, uncomfortable quiet that settled over the kitchen, and Itachi's words repeated in an endless loop around Kisame's head, as well as some other things he had said over the years, and he _knew _that Itachi would never be happy until his plan for Sasuke's redemption had been completed, but at the same time, for some reason, he kept thinking of Sakura, curled up in Itachi's bed upstairs, blissfully unaware of everything that was going on – sleeping soundly, under the impression that she had just saved the man she loved from something too terrible to comprehend, and that now he would be able to have a long and happy life.

Kisame gritted his teeth miserably, remembering the first time he had met thirteen-year-old Itachi. How, even then, he had been stunned by the kid's aura of authority and unbelievably sharp mind. Within hours, he had come to see how this particular thirteen-year-old had been an ANBU Captain, leading a squad of shinobi and kunoichi almost twice his age.

He had always respected Itachi too much, right from the beginning. He'd allowed his partner to have an unofficial degree of seniority. He'd acquiesced to all of his requests. And when it came to something so crucial…

"Fine," he managed, the words almost getting stuck in his throat, as he stared at the kitchen table. "…I'll do it."

Itachi watched Kisame, and despite his cool demeanor and how much he knew it was necessary, on an intellectual level – inside, he did sincerely regret that he had to ask this of his partner, and the look that Kisame was giving the kitchen table made him feel lower than he had in a long time. "Kisame, I—"

Kisame shook his head wordlessly, sliding his chair back from the table and walking away. Itachi watched him go, and knowing – with a certain heaviness in his heart – that there was nothing more to be said, he rose from the kitchen table, before slowly proceeding upstairs.

* * *

Sakura stirred briefly, stretching her limbs out uncomfortably and turning her face against the pillow. Her eyelids were still heavy with sleep, and she peered through her eyelashes and hair, blinking as she tried to focus her gaze; pushing her hair out of her face with a shaky hand. That helped her see that the spot beside her was now empty, and the realization motivated her to try to push herself up into a sitting position as fast as she could, despite the protestations of her exhausted, stiff muscles, and—

She felt a light touch on her shoulder, startling her out of her almost-panic. "I'm right here," Itachi told her quietly – sitting up, healthy, _whole _– and all the breath left Sakura's body in a sound halfway between a ragged sigh and an exclamation of relief as she threw her arms around him, burying her head into the side of his neck and hugging him as tightly as she could.

He seemed tense at first – probably the product of lying motionless for seven days straight – and stiffened at the sudden, affectionate contact, but eventually Itachi reciprocated the embrace, placing his hands on her back. Sakura just held on, so overwhelmed by emotion that she thought she might cry. "I'm so glad you're all right," she said, over and over again, her voice muffled by his skin, and Itachi just held her close, murmuring a few vaguely reassuring sentiments back to her.

It was a long time before Sakura felt ready to let go of him and draw back even a little, and when she did, she took a deep breath, reaching forward and pressing her palm against his heart. "You won't believe it," she sighed. It took the better part of fifteen minutes of talking until her throat was dry to explain all the shocking things she had found while healing the immediate injury that Roshi had inflicted on him, starting from the heart defect and then explaining the scarring in the lungs and the airway. Itachi nodded and seemed just as startled, in his own reserved way, as she would expect from any other patient in his situation. It was certainly a traumatic thing to find out, and finally, Sakura couldn't help but lean forward and embrace him again, tucking her head underneath his chin and letting herself be reassured by the steady beat of his heart and the even way his chest rose and fell. She wasn't saying it to brag, or anything, but this thought had been running through her mind continuously for the past week. By all rights, Itachi's complications could have been fatal. They _would _have been fatal, if she hadn't found them in time. The damage had been dangerously close to the threshold where it became irreparable, even by medical chakra.

"I still can't believe it. You could have died," Sakura breathed, her fingers coming up to rest against his muscled upper arms. "It would have developed into a certainly fatal array of complications, if we had come across it any later than this."

Itachi embraced her again, and she felt him place his chin on the top of her head, breathing in her hair; holding her so close that it seemed like he was afraid she'd slip through his fingertips and vanish. "Yes," he murmured, sounding somewhat faraway. "I could have."

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Hello again, everybody! Once again, I'm sorry for the late update. The end of the semester was super busy, with finals and all – but I am now on summer break, which means that I will try to resume my normal updating schedule as soon as possible.

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	9. The Unraveling

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was kind enough to review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Nine: The Unraveling_

* * *

The heat was oppressive. Even filtered through the canopy of the leaves above them, the still evening sunlight was bright and harsh against the top of her head and every inch of skin exposed by her sleeveless red vest and black shorts and tan skirt, and her legs were starting to feel stifled in her knee-high black leather boots. Sakura directed a sidelong glance at Itachi and Kisame, unsure how the two of them were able to put up with this kind of stifling summer weather, while covered pretty much head-to-toe in their customary black-and-red cloaks.

As if he had noticed her scrutiny, Itachi moved closer, letting Kisame lead their silent procession through the forest. Sakura spared a moment to give him a small smile, even though she knew that they were on the hunt and everything had to be strictly professional. "Wait," Itachi said quietly, and Sakura stopped, curious, while Kisame continued on.

She shot Itachi an inquisitive look, deciding that they were far enough away from the estimated location of the _target _to speak safely. "What is it? We're still half a mile away from where Kisame said Roshi would be."

He didn't reply at first, and they strayed from the path, Itachi leading her deeper and deeper into the forest, and after a moment, he reached out and took her hand, squeezing it briefly. Sakura glanced around their changing surroundings, and she stopped dead when she noticed where their strange little detour had ended. She had run into this place early yesterday, and used it as a brief respite from the heat; a comfortable place to rehydrate and eat a protein bar. She'd offhandedly mentioned it to him when she had returned to camp last night.

"Itachi? That's not…" Sakura stepped closer, brushing some of the greenery aside and taking note of the somewhat abashed expression on his face. She turned on Itachi before he even had a chance to open his mouth, so outraged at the conclusion she was drawing that she lifted one of her hands and poked him sharply in the chest. "Please tell me there's a reason you've led me to a secluded cave one mile away from where we are _supposed _to be, while Kisame heads to the drop point!"

Itachi winced a little at the rising volume of her voice. "I know his appearance is deceptive, but as you saw last time, Roshi is an immensely powerful shinobi. It will be a challenge for even Kisame and I to subdue him, and we do not want—"

"You don't want me getting in the way?" Sakura asked acidly, folding her arms over her chest. "Because let me tell you, I—"

"No, I do not want you getting hurt," Itachi interrupted firmly, the expression on his face making it clear that he was not going to give an inch. "You are aware of the abilities that Kisame and I possess, but Roshi has powers that you cannot even dream of. This fight has the potential to be…very serious, and I do not want you to be caught in the crossfire."

Sakura took a deep breath, unable to think of the last time she had been this frustrated and angry with him. Itachi was _insulting _her. This level of idiocy even surpassed all of his refusals to let her give him a physical exam two weeks ago. There were twenty different retorts that sprung to mind – the fact that she was competent enough to avoid being caught in any sort of crossfire; that she was a powerful combatant in her own right and it looked like the two of them would need all the help they could get against Roshi; that she was their medic and therefore, she had to be on the field; that he would probably be _dead _if he had demanded that she stay out of the way the last time they had confronted Roshi—

But she held her tongue at the last minute, biting down on the infuriated words that were ready to come spilling out, as a better idea manifested. "Fine," Sakura said curtly. "I understand. There's no point fighting about it. And I'm not that far away. If you or Kisame are injured, it's only a second's travel by a transportation technique."

Itachi's searching gaze met hers, obviously curious about the sudden change in demeanor, but after several moments of scrutiny, he relaxed fractionally, reaching out to brush his fingers against her cheekbone lightly. "Thank you, Sakura."

She stepped forward, standing on the tips of her toes and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Good luck, Itachi."

He left then, after one look back over his shoulder, and Sakura stepped into the darkness of the small cave. It was dark and cool and a welcome refuge from the heat, as it had been yesterday, and she settled into a sitting position at the very back, before closing her eyes and focusing her chakra-sensing capabilities to the maximum. She was a better actress than she thought; getting Itachi to fall for that one. What she had said to him had been true to some extent – there was simply no point fighting over it with him. It would just be a waste of her breath, time, and energy for nothing. She sighed quietly, biting her lip and tapping her fingers against the stone floor while counting down the minutes.

Twenty minutes passed before Sakura felt the first flare of chakra and the corresponding subtle yet tangible shift in the air around her. Then there were several more in quick succession by the time she even rose from her sitting position, the last of which made the entire cave tremble and caused a spiderweb of thin cracks to spread along the floor. By that time she was out of the cave, quickly and silently speeding toward the drop point, and she didn't need her chakra-sensing capabilities any longer. The ground shook and trembled beneath her feet, the smaller trees swayed back and forth alarmingly, and she heard the roar of Kisame's water ninjutsu, as well as unfamiliar sounds that had to be from Roshi's specialized techniques.

The air was practically shaking; she had seen hundreds of birds flying away, darkening the sky, and scores of rabbits and other small animals racing for cover. The pink-haired kunoichi glanced back and forth indecisively, before making up her mind. She wouldn't jump right into the fray at the moment, but she was close enough now, just several feet away, to be aware of what was happening and able to step in if the opportunity presented itself and Roshi appeared vulnerable to a carefully aimed medical ninjutsu.

Sakura directed a pulse of chakra to her feet and leapt into the upper branches of one of the more solid-looking trees, wincing at the sheer rawness of the charged power in the air. In the next second, she had to cling onto the trunk for support as a massive, earthquake-like shudder rippled through the ground, shaking the tree's very roots, and that almost distracted her from the yell, when it came; the sound almost drowned out by the cacophony of ninjutsu. The voice was deep and unfamiliar, full of rage, and it had to be Roshi's, and what he was saying was so nonsensical that it made her frown and lean forward, convinced that she was hearing him incorrectly.

He said…that it wasn't his fault he'd had this _demon _sealed inside him at birth, and it was a tremendous burden to bear, but he would do anything to prevent this – this _tailed beast _– from falling into the hands of the Akatsuki. He would never give up, even if it meant that he was going to have to let the demon briefly take control of him and kill Itachi and Kisame—

The chakra levels in the forest began to spike even more then, getting to a point where they were downright frightening. The temperature was increasing so much that the air was stifling and heavy and sweat was beading on her forehead, and Sakura's fingers went numb, and she nearly lost her grip on the tree and stumbled off, but then Roshi's enraged yelling went abruptly silent – before devolving into horribly prolonged, agonized screams. The sound made her freeze from sheer horror, regardless of what he had threatened her teammates with, and then, after what felt like an eternity of listening to him scream, there was a solid-sounding _thunk – _the sound of the handle of Kisame's sword making contact with somebody's head – and then there was silence again.

Sakura took a step back on her branch, vaguely aware of the fact that she was trembling from head to toe, and then fled back to the cave where Itachi had told her to wait. Within a minute, she had settled herself back against the cool, dark stone wall, curling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, but she was still shaking, Roshi's words repeating in her mind on an endless loop. No, not even his words anymore…the moment his words had been cut off by those terrible, prolonged screams of pain. She didn't have to guess what had happened to him, and the realization was enough to turn her stomach. Itachi had just used his torture genjutsu (the one he had told her he hardly ever used; the one Kisame said was the most effective) on an elderly, mentally ill man who had been raving about demons, tailed beasts, _whatever _being sealed inside him at birth – whoever heard of such a thing? – and suffering under the delusion that he was being pursued for them.

Another tremor raced through her body, this time accompanied by a sudden ache in her head, and Sakura could feel her fingernails digging hard into the leather of her boots. Something wasn't right. Even though logic told her that what Roshi had claimed was impossible, it was hard for her to dismiss it as just the ravings of a madman when his words – and the injustice of being hunted like quarry for something that you were completely helpless about – struck such an inexplicable, powerful chord within her. His words touched her so deeply it was like she knew him personally; like she could have been his teammate, if he was her own age, and was determined to protect him from those who would seek to harm him for the sake of…

…Acquiring the tailed beast and using its tremendous strength for their own devious purposes, such as gaining control of shinobi hidden villages, or civilian territories or entire countries.

The suddenness of the random factoid made Sakura blink, and this time, she reached up and dug her fingers into her hair. Was she going insane or something? Five minutes ago, she had been sure that she hadn't heard or understood Roshi's words correctly because nothing about it made sense, and now everything he had said was so clear. And again, that word that he had spoken, with so much hatred and fear mingled into one. Akatsuki.

_Stop, _she ordered herself, before she could get even more worked up. _Calm down. _She would…well, she would have to ask Itachi about it later tonight.

_Itachi, who just used a horrible torture genjutsu on an old man who may or may not have been senile._

_Stop it, Sakura, it's not like he wanted to; you heard what Roshi had threatened them with – it was self-defense, clearly—_

Sakura shook her head hard to silence the arguing voices, again, and she heard the two of them moving through the forest now – Kisame's steps heavier because he was carrying Roshi – probably coming to tell her that their task had been completed, and she took a deep breath, taking advantage of her last couple of moments of solitude to try and regain her composure.

Predictably enough, she didn't get a chance to be alone with Itachi until an hour had passed and the sun had just set, leaving the sky mostly dark blue, a few specks of silver stars already visible, despite the faint orange glow on the horizon. He had stepped away from their campsite fifteen minutes ago to meditate, heading for the lake and waterfall a mile away, and it was on the banks of the lake, just outside of the tall grass, that she found him. Sakura took a moment to watch Itachi quietly. His back was to her, his black-and-red cloak put aside, his head bowed in thought and his eyes presumably closed. Yet, despite his stillness and her quiet approach, she knew he was already aware of her presence, and her suspicions were proved right when she sunk to her knees and embraced him from behind, letting her head rest against the nape of his neck, and his muscles didn't even give the tiniest twitch of surprise. Instead, he reached up and touched her arm. "Hello, Sakura."

"I'll never be able to sneak up on you, will I?" she asked wryly, letting herself be gently guided around to sit at his side properly. Itachi shook his head no, obviously trying to be as sensitive and humble about it as possible, and Sakura made a face at him, before resting her head against his shoulder. For several minutes, they sat quietly, enjoying the view and the soft breeze that had fallen over the area after the sun had set, and she almost regretted it when she had to clear her throat and speak up. There was no point dancing around the issue. She had to just come right out and say it. "Itachi, what did Roshi mean when he was talking about a demon sealed inside him at birth? And about…how you and Kisame were pursuing him to extract this thing?"

Sakura felt Itachi tense up slightly at her query, but then he gave a barely audible sigh. "You left the cave."

"Yes. Of course I left – did you think I was really just going to sit quietly and tap my fingers together like a good little girl until the fighting was over? But what did he mean by all that?"

She looked at him searchingly, but there was no use. Itachi's face was as expressionless, revealing nothing, as always. "I do not know if it is true," he said, at last, sounding like he was weighing each word deliberately before he spoke. "The Leader required that we deliver Roshi to him. What happens beyond that…is not something that Kisame and I are aware of."

Her first instinct was to be skeptical of this statement, and she almost spoke up, but at the same time, she knew that Itachi would never lie to her. Sakura's eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, and he forestalled her reply. "I know how reprehensible you find the fact that we are delivering him to an unknown fate, Sakura."

She met his gaze evenly. "I just think it's strange that you and Kisame seem to work as glorified bounty hunters without knowing or caring about the consequences of what you're doing. I _know _you two, and…"

She trailed off, obviously confused and frustrated by the situation and by the way the pieces were not fitting together in her mind. Itachi couldn't tell whether she was so disturbed by this situation just because she was compassionate Sakura, so sensitive to human suffering and injustice…or because, to some subconscious area of her mind, Roshi's words at the end had reminded her of sentiments expressed by Naruto. He knew that Sakura would have been fiercely protective of her sole remaining teammate – seeking to protect Naruto from _him _and Kisame – after what had happened to the Kazekage. Lying to her like that had been difficult, but necessary, even though it made him a little sick to take advantage of her complete trust in him.

He knew it was utterly ineffective, but Itachi reached out and patted her hand, which was curled up into a miserable fist in the grass. "It's all right," he told her quietly, wishing fervently that he was telling the truth; that he could say with a clear conscience that Roshi could escape this ordeal with his life. "It is going to be all right."

Sakura pulled her hand back and frowned. "No, it's not," she replied unhappily, but after a few minutes, she leaned against him again, and Itachi couldn't even begin to guess at the thoughts running through her mind.

* * *

"Hey, kid, can you pass me my summoning scroll? I left it on the kitchen table after I stocked us up on rations…"

Sakura debated throwing it at Kisame's grinning face after retrieving it from the table, but good manners won out, and she grudgingly placed it into his hand. "Remind me again why I'm being left behind while you two go back to Rain?" she asked dryly, trying not to look at the human-sized black bag – in which an unconscious Roshi had been secured – slung over Kisame's shoulder.

"Because it is unnecessary for all three of us to make the trip, and we never leave the base unsecured," Itachi responded, emerging from the staircase.

"Right," Sakura muttered, rolling her eyes. It was stupid of her, she knew, but for the past several weeks, she had been looking forward to the prospect of meeting Itachi's family when they returned to Rain with Roshi in custody. He loved them so much, and she was curious about them, naturally – they sounded like kind people, especially his cousin and mother, and meeting that brother of his, the one who was her age and who Itachi had a real soft spot for, would have been interesting as well. Not only that, but she had been looking forward to actually seeing the village where she had grown up again, since the head injury seemed to have eliminated all memories of it whatsoever. She wanted to see her childhood home; the place she had trained as a medic; the places she had played as a little girl. Most pressingly, she wanted to see whether Rain really had those beautiful, lush green forests that she kept dreaming of, or whether that was just a figment of her imagination… But no, when she had mentioned to Itachi and Kisame last night about how excited she was to do all of these things, they had given her blank looks and promptly gone about crushing all of her dreams, using the questionable rationale that Itachi had just spouted at her.

Kisame smirked, blind to the true reason behind her preoccupation, and adopted a particularly obnoxious tone. "Aww, is little Sakura afraid of being home alone?"

"Kisame, don't even—"

"Really, kid, there's no need to worry. You know about all the security genjutsu around the house. This place is invisible to anybody who's not Itachi or me."

He was actually trying to be reassuring now, and Sakura couldn't help but smile as he stepped outside, leaving her alone with Itachi. "Thanks, Kisame."

He lifted a hand in farewell, and she turned to Itachi, who reached out to smooth a stray lock of hair away from her face tenderly, reading her expression with ease. "I am sorry about this, Sakura," he told her softly. "I promise that it will only be three days, though."

Sakura sighed and stepped forward, letting him hold her close. "I know. Be safe, all right?"

By way of an answer, Itachi bent and kissed her gently, lingeringly, his hands brushing the curve of her waist, and Sakura straightened the silver clasp of his cloak as he finally pulled away. "Say hi to your family from me, okay?" she asked, trying to smile at him.

"I will," Itachi replied, his voice almost a whisper, as he stepped out and disappeared into the darkness.

Sakura stared after them for a few seconds before shutting and locking the door, all the breath leaving her body in a tired sigh. She glanced up the staircase, before deciding that it would be maybe too lonely to spend the night there tonight. In the living room, there were blankets folded neatly and placed on the armchair that nobody ever sat on, and she took one and settled herself down on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling.

The Roshi issue kept weighing on her mind, and in an attempt to distract herself, her thoughts drifted to Itachi. He had been somewhat distant for the few days immediately following her healing, which she had chalked up to a normal reaction to the shock that he must have experienced, considering how close he had been to death without ever even realizing it. He had gone back to his old subtly affectionate self, though, but despite his efforts to reassure her and set her at ease regarding what had happened over the past couple of days, she still felt sick at the thought of what kind of fate awaited Roshi when Itachi and Kisame handed him over to the _Leader. _She had intended on doing some research about these tailed beasts, but she was exhausted now, and perhaps that could wait until tomorrow…

Her eyelids slowly slipped shut, and somewhere along that line, Sakura's uneasy thoughts segued into dreams that were both vague and vivid. There were lots of leaves and forests and greenery, again – she sped through the trees, her chakra-covered feet touching down on each branch. A flash of blonde and orange on one side of her; something dark blue several paces ahead. Then there was another figure, too; a person clad entirely in black and dark gray, who crouched on one of the branches next to her when she stopped, panting for breath and feeling her heart pound from the exertion. For some reason, he was clutching what looked like an orange magazine in one hand, and when he turned toward her, from the look in his sole visible eye, Sakura guessed that he was giving her an encouraging sort of smile, but she couldn't quite tell, because of the mask that covered the lower half of his face.

Sakura smiled back and bounded forward, trying to catch up with the other two, and she heard the blonde boy in the hideously bright orange jumpsuit calling to her, his words indistinct but his friendly tone and the laughter in his voice unmistakable, and the feeling of trust and companionship and happiness – of familiarity and _home _– that swept over her was so strong that it was tangible.

Then she plummeted to the forest floor, and everything was different. She was walking through the forest this time – a little taller, a lot more sure of herself – with a chubby, red-haired boy at her side, who for some reason was munching from a bag of potato chips and periodically offering her a handful. They were following another man into a deeper, darker and more sinister area of the forest, but it wasn't the masked man from earlier; this person was taller, with more tanned skin and a beard, and he had a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. Sakura breathed in the acrid, pungent scent of the smoke every time she inhaled and exhaled, and it was almost distracting her from what he was saying – that the three of them needed to train together to prepare to face the Forest of Death for the second part of the exams.

Then there was a sudden bump against her hip, and Sakura turned and found herself glaring accusingly at another girl, who wore a dark purple cropped halter top and a matching short skirt. The girl just grinned at her irrepressibly. "Yeah, Forehead Girl," she commented, prancing ahead and turning to give her a teasing look. "You have to try and keep up! You really were pretty awful at this section last time, unlike Chouji and I…"

"Shut up, pig! In case you forgot, I was the one who saved your ass from that giant tiger when we trained in here last week. It was my superior tactical skills that enabled me to trap it into falling into the eight-foot crater that _I _punched into the ground, and then Chouji started throwing the boulders at it, of course…while _you _just stood there and dithered!"

"Oh, whatever, I wasn't in any danger from that stupid thing at all. I _had _it under control and would have taken care of it with enviable skill and superior technique if you hadn't jumped in, and also, that crater was _so _not eight feet deep, it was five at the most…"

"Girls, girls," the jounin-sensei sighed exasperatedly, sounding as if he'd heard this dialogue a million times before. "Please, not this again. You need to focus on the challenge that you will soon be facing."

Then he led them through a gate and into an even darker section of the forest. She, the purple-clad girl, and the red-haired boy lined up, their backs to the fence as they stared around the changed terrain apprehensively, and then the trees erupted with snakes, and massive tigers began to slink out into the clearing, frightening in their sinuous grace, their eyes gleaming with hunger, and—

Sakura's eyes snapped open, all the breath leaving her body in a harsh gasp. She stared around the room, frightened and shivering, for several moments before she realized that she had flung the blankets off herself, and was curled up on her side in the fetal position – and that there was nothing else in the room with her. No snakes, no tigers. Slowly, the pink-haired medic pushed herself up into a sitting position, before gathering the blankets and pulling them over her again. More than the normal fatigue that she felt after getting up unexpectedly in the middle of the night, she felt…puzzled, as she tangled her fingers together over the blankets and stared at them. What had just happened? Dreams were random. She knew that. But the ones she just had all had seemed so – so…personal, not just disjointed figments of imagination that her mind threw up at her. It was so unlike her other dreams in that these were very cohesive, as well, and everything that she felt was so detailed and _real_ (down to the miniscule details of the smell of the cigarettes and the crunch of the potato chips and the infectious sound of the boy's laughter) that…

Sakura frowned, propping her chin up in her hands as a new, intriguing thought suddenly occurred to her. She didn't dare to hope, but – all things considered, could these possibly be fragments of her own memories, returning? It had been so long since her injury, with such a complete lack of recall, that she had begun to give up on the exercises that she did every night, when she would sit cross-legged on the floor for an hour, considering any visual, auditory, or olfactory stimuli she had experienced during the day, while searching her mind in hopes that they would trigger some spark of residual memory. There had been certain things that she found oddly significant: ramen, the smell of vanilla, black briefcases. But none of that had been enough to trigger any real recall.

She bit her lip thoughtfully. Really, these dreams could be some sort of breakthrough. The blonde boy with the orange jumpsuit; the boy who she saw as a flash of dark blue, far ahead; the chubby red-haired boy with the potato chips; the girl who had teasingly called her _forehead girl – _maybe they were all friends of hers, when she had been thirteen or fourteen. The masked man and the man who smoked – teachers of some sort? The first seemed like he was trying to teach her how to run through the trees; the second had mentioned an exam that he was helping them prepare for.

Sakura lay back down, now wide awake as she tried to commit to memory every single detail of the dream while it was still fresh in her mind. And there was the sunlit forest again, the leaves, unlike any place she had seen while traveling with Itachi and Kisame. Of course, she didn't remember what Rain – where she, Itachi, and Kisame were from, and where they had met each other – looked like, but that was the sobering thing. She couldn't rely on her own mind and hadn't been able to since the accident. The place in her mind could be Rain, or it could be just a random fantasy her mind had thrown up at her while sleeping…because it had certainly been a beautiful place.

Sakura sighed, turning her head to the side and skimming her fingers against the carpet. But at least she was becoming more and more sure, with every moment that passed, that the people she had dreamed of were real. Instinct told her that much. They had been her friends and classmates, before she had met Itachi and Kisame. The knowledge, even though it seemed so small, was exhilarating. She was finally – _finally _– grasping one more piece of her own past, besides her knowledge of medical techniques. It had been so long that she was afraid that her memories of her life before the injury had been locked away forever. Now, if she could only recall her friends' names…and start to remember a few more of the missing links, like her parents and her medic training and how she had met Itachi and Kisame…

The light of the rising sun had begun to touch the room by the time she even managed to fall asleep again for a few short hours. Considering her rough night, Sakura spent the day relaxing in a way she hadn't in months. There were some old foreign dramas playing on the television, and Kisame had left a huge stack of newspapers in the corner of the room, so after the movies were done, she spent a few hours lying on the floor, reading every single story and catching up on current events around the country. She didn't feel the passage of time much, and it was a mild surprise to glance up from one of the crossword puzzles in the newspapers and realize that night had fallen again. After a quick dinner of egg fried rice, Sakura settled down in the sofa with her blankets again, wrapping her arms around her knees and staring at the wall as she patiently waited for exhaustion to claim her. It was odd, but she was actually eager to go to sleep. The hope she felt, that there would be another dream to help her shed light on another one of those missing pieces of her past, was so fervent and intense and all-consuming that it took her breath away. Every second, she desperately wished that whatever dream would come tonight was something about her parents.

Sakura turned her flushed cheek against the cool silk of her pillow, taking a deep breath and trying to will herself to calm down and relax. The last thing she needed was to get so worked up that she stayed up half the night in a fit of anticipation.

Sleep came, eventually, and so did another dream. This was different from the others in that she was standing in a huge, empty, starkly white room, staring at a massive dying koi fish that flopped limply in a vat of water as large as her bathtub. As if that wasn't strange enough, though the room was windowless and had no speakers, Sakura heard a disembodied yet authoritative voice, a woman's voice, drilling her on what to do – how to take hold of the fish for the first time and how to calm it, how to direct her chakra into its internal organs and search for any abnormalities within its system, how to use the chakra to correct whatever was wrong with it; whether it was a blockage in the gut or a respiratory abnormality. _Don't let it die, Sakura! I know you can do it! _The woman ordered her sharply. _That's Homura's most beloved pet, and he'll never let me hear the end of it if it dies! _

Sakura worked and worked and worked as if on autopilot, feeling the beads of sweat form on her forehead, seeing the coat of chakra covering her hands as she performed the healing. "Yes, Tsunade-shishou," she repeated obediently, over and over again, and then finally, after what felt like hours, the fish regained a healthy tinge to its scales, began to swim properly around the giant vat of water, and blinked at her with beady eyes. Sakura gave a huge sigh of relief, patting it on the head, and then the bathtub turned into a giant stream that seemed to flow out of the room entirely. After one last grateful wiggle of its fins, the koi fish swam away, and a door that she hadn't noticed earlier, on the opposite side of the room, opened. A woman stepped in – this had to be Tsunade-shishou, Sakura realized after a moment, feeling another surge of familiarity and recognition. Tsunade-shishou had beautiful chocolate-brown eyes, proud posture, and a determined face, which softened a little bit when she smiled. "I am proud of you, Sakura. Your skills are progressing very nicely."

Sakura bowed deeply, overwhelmed with gratitude and pleasure. "Thank you, Hokage-sama."

That dream faded then, and was replaced by a more normal one, of following the koi fish and traveling through the ocean in an oxygen-filled bubble and seeing all of the wonderful species of underwater plant and animal life. It was sunrise by the time she woke up naturally, huddled against the sofa, and Sakura sat bolt upright, all of the beautiful, lingering images of coral reefs and brightly colored saltwater fish and strangely textured jellyfish evaporating quickly as she tried to recall what her first dream had been about. Not her parents, but clearly a memory from her initial training as a medic; being tested on how to use diagnostic and corrective chakra. Itachi had told her that she was trained by an older medic in Rain, but what had she called the woman? Tsunade…Tsunade-shishou…but after that, toward the end, there had been a more official-sounding title, something she had never seen or heard of before. Sakura racked her brains for a minute before it finally came to her. Hokage-sama.

Hokage-sama…she mulled it over for a while. Literally, Fire Shadow. Fire. Why Fire, if they were from Rain? The Fire Country was really far away, according to the world maps she had seen. In any case, it seemed clear from the honorific title that Tsunade was some sort of important leader.

Sakura hesitated for a few seconds, before throwing her blankets aside and rising from the sofa. After freshening up, she immediately headed back downstairs to the library. _When in doubt, research._ The motto had always served her well. She headed toward the rows of books in the very back, the only ones she had given just a passing glance to because the others interested her more. The history section – these books were all ancient, practically falling apart, with yellowing, brittle pages, and there didn't seem to be a single one under five hundred pages. She sighed, not knowing where to begin, but after almost ten minutes of perusing the shelves, she finally found a book devoted to the history of the world's shinobi villages. Sakura's eyes widened, and she grabbed it off the shelf hastily, before sinking down into her favorite armchair.

The glossary was written in uncomfortably tiny print, but in the sea of unfamiliar words, she eventually found the one she was looking for. _Hokage. _The first mention of this word came on page three hundred and fifty-seven, and she flipped to it as fast as she could, leaning forward intently in hopes of taking in as much information as possible. The word Hokage was first mentioned in the first paragraph of the first chapter devoted to Konoha…also known as the Village Hidden in the Leaves, and Sakura felt her heart skip a beat for some reason as she traced the word absentmindedly, staring at the pages in front of her, and though it was unlike her, her gaze skimmed over the text in favor of focusing on the small pictures on each page.

The book was old, and so were the pictures, which were printed in black and white, and they weren't the best quality – but they were enough to make Sakura's chest constrict with the strength of the confusion she felt as she tapped her finger against each picture unconsciously. The buildings. The footnote on the first picture described it as the Academy, where young shinobi-in-training learned the most basic skills. The footnote on the second picture described the building as Hokage Tower, where the Hokage, the leader of Konoha, worked, as well as serving as the headquarters to many other important departments, like the Torture and Interrogations sector.

Sakura felt her startled intake of breath as she stared at this caption, but before she even truly comprehended its implications, there was just the overwhelming realization that all of these buildings – the bird's eye view of the village – the panoramic view of Hokage Mountain – the Academy – the hospital – they were all _familiar _to her. She had definitely seen them before – no, not even that, they were _intimately _familiar; she had been there before. The top floor of Hokage Tower was not just where the Hokage's office was located – it had the best lounge with the most comfortable leather sofas and the tastiest coffee. The left wing of the hospital was laid out in a rather confusing manner and she had gotten lost there during her first several shifts. The meadows behind the Academy had the most beautiful flowers in the village and were a great place to practice ikebana, the art of flower arranging, but she'd hated that special kunoichi class that they'd all had to take at the Academy before becoming genin because she was no good at it, not like Ino, and Ino-pig would always make fun of her for it—

Sakura blinked, astonished, and she finally closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to sort through her tangled thoughts. …And, most pressingly…_Hokage-sama. _Tsunade-shishou was the leader of Konoha. She had learned her skills as a medic not just from some medic in Rain, but from the leader of Konoha, an entirely different shinobi village. And the village was _so _very familiar to her. She had been there before…studied at their Academy, worked at their hospital…trained in their forests (learned how to walk up trees and leap from branch to branch) when she had been a genin.

She just didn't know what to make of this. How could all this be true, considering what Itachi and Kisame had told her when she first became re-acquainted with them? Was there something else she was missing? The only image that came to mind was a puzzle with several important chunks left empty. Maybe her parents had moved to Rain at some point, after she had already commenced her medic training with Tsunade-shishou, and she finished up her training with a local medic?

Sakura turned the next few pages absentmindedly, too preoccupied with her questions to bring herself to focus on the text, even though she knew it was important. But the next picture she saw actually made her lips part with surprise, and she lifted her finger to trace the lines, stunned. This was also familiar…not because she remembered it from her hazy past – but because she saw it every day, engraved on the steel of Itachi's forehead protector. The symbol on Itachi's forehead protector…was the symbol of the village. Konoha. Which defied everything he had told her about he and his family being from Rain—

Then another thought occurred to her, and she bit her lip again, distracted. The slash. The _slash, _through the symbol on his forehead protector. What was that supposed to mean?

Sakura began to search the text, bending even closer to the pages, and her finger stilled when she arrived at the last sentence of the page. She read it over again, and then once more, but the content didn't change. _Missing-nin, shinobi who abandoned their villages without the intention of returning – often because they had committed criminal acts or to pursue other personal gains – often carved long, horizontal scratches into the symbols on their forehead protectors to show that they had rescinded their alliances and rejected their villages. This was most frequently seen in members of the Akatsuki._

Again. That word – Akatsuki. It was becoming more and more clear exactly what kind of reputation this organization had. And what was this…criminal acts? Rescinding allegiances and rejecting their villages; going rogue, for lack of a better term? It was getting harder and harder to connect Itachi – and her – to Rain, where they had supposedly met. But Itachi, committing any sort of criminal act? The thought was unconscionable. Ridiculous in its impossibility.

Sakura took another deep breath, realizing just how upset she was, before starting to turn the pages again, with leaden fingers, keeping the symbol on Kisame's forehead protector in mind. As she had been beginning to suspect and fear, she found it not under Rain, but in the chapter regarding the Village Hidden in the Mist, or Kirikagure. The slash indicated a missing-nin.

Sakura closed the book, too disturbed to read anything more, and she eventually realized that she was shivering as she pondered the implications of all that she had just learned. She was connected in some way to the Hokage, and Konoha. She had grown up there and at least begun her medical studies there. Itachi had been connected to Konoha as well…before he had discarded those ties. Why had he done that? Was his family still in Konoha, or had all of them left for Rain when Itachi did? And Kisame had no connection to Konoha at all. How had he and Itachi met? Most likely, after Itachi had left Konoha and joined this…Akatsuki. And, most puzzingly, how did _she _fit into this?

The really pressing thing was, though…when she had regained consciousness after her head injury, had Itachi and Kisame told her the truth? The whole truth? Had they hidden some things from her? But why would they do that? They had no reason to do so. They wouldn't lie to her. Most likely, there were still conspicuous but crucially important gaps in her memory that would explain the mysterious link to Rain and how they had all come together.

She was so lost in thought, staring at the cover of the book, that she didn't notice the quiet footsteps behind her and the silent presence until Itachi finally reached out and touched her shoulder tentatively, and the light contact was enough to make her nearly jump out of her skin, even as he stepped into her line of sight. "What – Itachi! You're home already?"

"We finished early." He looked exhausted, but happy to see her, in his own subtle way, as he reached out and touched her cheek, before kissing her forehead, and Sakura couldn't help but stare at his forehead protector for a few moments, unable to tear her gaze away, even though she knew she should give him a proper greeting.

Itachi noticed her distraction, and his gaze flickered down to the book in her lap. "A Comprehensive History of the World's Shinobi Villages?" he inquired, his tone neutral.

"Yeah," Sakura replied self-consciously, as she stood and put it back on the shelf, before turning to him. "It's…nothing. I was bored."

The words made her strangely queasy, as she realized it was the first time she had ever lied to him. Itachi looked thoughtful, as if he knew that there was something more going on, but all he did was hold out his hand to her. "Would you like to eat breakfast with Kisame and I? He brought back some rice and fish."

After a fraction of a second of inexplicable hesitation, which Sakura was sure that both of them noticed, she wordlessly put her hand in Itachi's and let him lead her out of the library.

* * *

It was getting close to midnight, and Itachi still couldn't sleep.

He watched each minute tick by on the clock on his bedside table. The fluorescent green normally irritated his eyes, but tonight, he kept staring regardless, motivated by a sort of morbid fascination. He had never paid much attention to time until now; he noticed when the seasons began to change, and that was about it. But of late, he found himself looking at the calendar pinned to the kitchen wall several times a day, and then came the fascination with clocks and watching the hours and minutes slide away. When each second passed, it was one that would never be retrieved again.

The concept of the passage of time had never caused him this much concern before, and Itachi knew exactly why it seemed to have acquired a particular, heavy significance of late. The intelligence and sporadic reports he received from his web of contacts showed that Sasuke was slowly but steadily making his way toward him. The gap was closing. They would meet in a matter of three or four weeks.

This thought, as it always did, triggered an infinitely more worrying one that made Itachi shut his eyes, pained. Sakura. The issue had been weighing on his mind ceaselessly for the past several days, with greater and greater urgency. She could hardly come with him and Kisame to the location that he had planned for his final confrontation with Sasuke. Firstly, explaining the situation to her would be far too difficult – and secondly, there would be no doubt that Sasuke would recognize his former teammate. That was simply unacceptable. But at the same time, Itachi's heart broke every time he even considered what to tell Sakura – if he should just leave under some false pretense, saying that one of his family members was terribly ill or he had some other business to attend to, and he would be back in two days? (At which point Kisame could hear of his death at the hands of another shinobi, perhaps a hunter-nin, and convey the news to Sakura.) This was the most plausible plan he had come up with thus far, but deceiving her and leaving her behind…it would be one of the hardest things he had ever done. Even now, the mere prospect made his chest tighten.

It was at times like these that Itachi fully realized how much these circumstances, between him and Sakura, had escalated completely out of control. It had begun as a harmless fascination on his part, evolved into a deeper attraction, and now, they were seriously involved. Becoming entangled with her had been a reckless, impulsive decision, born partly out of the fact that he was going to be confronting his own mortality shortly afterward and, _why not_. But this was definitely not just a fling_; _not merely something to pass the time. Over the months that had passed, he had come to care for her more deeply than he could easily comprehend. The intensity of the emotion that washed over him at certain times was almost frightening. And it was that that made the fact that he had to leave her behind so heart-wrenchingly difficult.

But when Itachi looked at it objectively, he had to admit that he should have known; _must _have known, that this could never last. He was carrying on an affair with an amnesiac kunoichi affiliated with his former village. A kunoichi whom, under normal circumstances, would have despised him for what he had done to her teammates, and wanted to kill him. He and Kisame had always been wary about the possibility of Sakura's memories returning, but now, a little more than six months later, they still had yet to manifest. It made him feel – well, on some level, throughout all this, Itachi felt happy that they hadn't returned, because then Sakura would have realized exactly who and what they were. He didn't think he would easily be able to handle it if he had sought her out to wish her a good morning, on some occasion, and she had responded by trying to strangle him while shaking with barely repressed hatred. He and Kisame had even prepared a contingency plan in case this should ever happen – the two of them would work to subdue Sakura before she could do any serious harm, before taking their chances and returning her to the outskirts of the Fire Country, where she could find her way back to Konoha.

Luckily, they had never had to use this plan, and as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Itachi felt the usual pang of guilt. The loss of a life's worth of memories, waking up with essentially an empty slate, was unimaginable – regardless of the fact that it had provided _him _with an opportunity he could have never foreseen. He could not even begin to put herself in her shoes. It was a tragedy, in a way, and Itachi's lips tightened at the thought of losing every precious memory that he had. Of cradling the baby Sasuke; carefully holding his hand as his little brother took his very first steps, Sasuke's round eyes wide with wonder. Of never remembering his mother's embraces and the way she stayed up late at night to meet him when he returned from his missions, giving him a hot plate of food and keeping him company while he ate, or the rare afternoons he and Shisui had off, when they would destroy large areas of the forest with spirited renditions of famous battles in the Second Shinobi World War.

Itachi sighed quietly, turning his head to the side. There was so much that Sakura could never tell him about her earlier life – so much that she had lost, herself. The loss of her memories was in fact something to be mourned, and he couldn't help but wonder whether it would be permanent. Kisame had said that if she showed no sign of recovering any memories by the time of his confrontation with Sasuke, afterwards – after his death – Kisame would take her back to Rain with him and make some inquiries with Konan, who would certainly be able to find a place for Sakura as a doctor in one of the city's civilian hospitals. It would be the perfect position for somebody with her incredible talents. She would be well taken care of, with housing provided for her, civilians to befriend, and a considerable salary for her work, but…

Itachi had to abandon that train of thought. Yes, it would be a comfortable life, and he hoped that Sakura would be happy, but it would be…empty, in a way. She would be far away from her home; her real home. From her parents and siblings, if she had any, and from her friends and teammates and everything that was familiar to her in the world – and she would never know it. It was, as he had thought earlier, tragic.

But she would remember him, and that would be a loss that she realized fully.

Itachi closed his eyes, unable to consider that any longer. When he finally glanced back at the clock, he noted that twenty more minutes had passed. Twenty minutes was trivial, was _nothing, _in a lifespan of five or six more decades. It seemed like a frighteningly massive chunk of time in a lifespan measured in weeks. He was acutely aware of the short units he was measuring his life in now, and despite his best efforts…this was bothering him, considering recent circumstances. Considering that, thanks to Sakura's healing, he was now healthy – and _able _to have a natural lifespan of another fifty years.

He shifted against the bed, feeling the way that the muscles in his back had knotted up due to the overwhelming tension. It was hard to admit this, even within the privacy of his own mind, but – Itachi felt guilty for even _thinking _it, since he knew that he was too far into the plan; too close to the end, to have second thoughts and go back, but for the first time ever – though he was still convicted that this was the right thing to do – he was strangely reluctant to take the steps that would carry him through to the end. To his end, at Sasuke's hands, just like he had always wanted. He had been resigned to the fact that he would die young (just like so many other members of the Uchiha clan) because of the heart defect. His life had naturally been drawing to a close, which made the act of facing Sasuke down on a battlefield, letting his younger brother hasten the inevitable end, seem so much _easier. _He had even welcomed the thought of his own death, seeing it as something he deserved, because why should he get the privilege of experiencing life, when he had killed over thirty members of his own family in cold blood? Sasuke would be ensuring that justice was served, and he would be accepting his own fate.

Worryingly enough, though…ever since Sakura had given him that second lease on life, unwillingly, Itachi found his perspective changing. For the first time in years, he was paying extraordinary attention to a million little details about – about _life, _in general, and appreciating them more than he ever had before. The unique spread of colors that washed over the sky every time the sun rose or set. The beauty of the silver moon and stars against the sky. The shapes of the clouds. He could stare at the sky alone for hours. The delicate, sweet scent of the summertime flowers that lingered in the air; the softness of the grass underneath his feet; the sound of the water in the nearby creek rushing over the rocks; the songs of the birds. Besides sweets, he had never relished eating with the abundance of joy that Kisame and Shisui did, but now, he savored the flavor of everything he put into his mouth.

He remembered the stories Kisame would tell him about Mist, and about his small home on the coast. Kisame used to talk a lot about how they should retire there in about ten years, and he had described the area with such precise detail – the seemingly endless stretches of bone-white, smooth sand; the constant sound of the gentle waves breaking on the shore; the smell of the salt in the air; the perpetual silver-gray cast of the sky; the thin, fine mist that settled over the land. The weather was cool year-round, and the nights were often downright chilly. Kisame had told him that the fishing off the coast of his homeland was the best in the world, and there was nothing like sitting around a large fire on the beach, roasting fresh fish and shrimp. He had always acknowledged that it sounded like a peaceful experience, but at the same time, he had been completely resigned to the fact that he would never experience it. Now, for some reason, the thought brought Itachi an inordinate amount of sadness and regret. He found himself thinking about it at odd times. Last night he had woken up with a nearly paralyzing sense of disappointment and loss, the image of him, Kisame, and Sakura there fading away, to be replaced with Kisame sitting in solitude, Sakura alone in a hospital in Rain, and him…long gone, his body wasting away in the cold soil beneath an unmarked grave.

Itachi remembered New Year's festivals. The fireworks, the sweets, the laughter, the tangible merriment in the air. The annual blooming of the cherry blossom trees. The sense of peace he felt in summer, when he could find a few moments to himself, to seek out secluded ponds and float in the cool water. The way he felt every year during the time of the first snowfall. And, of course, perhaps most meaningful of all…Sakura. There was nothing more that needed to be said apart from the fact that if he were to die at Sasuke's hands right now, there would be nothing – _nothing _– that he would miss and regret more.

And for the first time, the realization that he was going to lose all of that, lose _everything,_ brought on a sense of panic, which Itachi had been trying and failing to suppress, for weeks now. It was as if he was losing the detached rationality that had driven him for all these years – but then again, for all of these years, he had known that there was no chance of him living beyond his early twenties, regardless. Now everything was different, and all of a sudden, it was as if he was not ready to let go of life just yet.

Itachi sighed softly as a wave of self-loathing swept over him. Everything that had been playing in his mind regarding this recently…it was incredibly selfish of him. Unacceptable. But at the same time, he had to reluctantly admit that this kind of regret and borderline indecision was a natural function of human nature. Walking forward to calmly and peacefully accept one's own death was a difficult task. He already knew that, despite his careful planning and composure, the task of confronting his own mortality had already driven him to act with perhaps more recklessness over the past few months. Case in point, getting involved with Sakura.

What he was about to do would be worth it, though. Itachi had no doubt about that. He would give his entire life up in a second for Sasuke – he would take a kunai or any sort of deadly ninjutsu for him without a second thought. The only thing that had been worrying him of late, though, was the disturbing consideration of whether Sasuke, his beloved younger brother, was still the person that he remembered. He had never foreseen Sasuke abandoning Konoha to seek Orochimaru's tutelage. While he had instructed Sasuke to become stronger in order to defeat him, he had never imagined that Sasuke would leave the village and pursue instruction from Orochimaru, of all people. The depth of his ambition…the depths to which he would sink in order to achieve his revenge…had honestly troubled Itachi. That had been a troubling time, and he had laid awake for night after night on end, afraid of what three years of exposure to Orochimaru would have done to Sasuke's psyche. He wanted to believe otherwise, but he was worried about the possibility that it could have – tainted – Sasuke, somehow. He had monitored Sasuke's activities very closely since leaving Konoha, and his brother had already shown a darkness and ruthlessness that he had never anticipated…and one that Madara would have taken note of. While Itachi had always hoped that, after his death, Sasuke would return to Konoha and live life as a peaceful citizen, his burning desire for revenge quenched…it did not seem as plausible, now. Sasuke had already proven himself willing to ally with dangerous, unethical (for lack of a better word) shinobi. If, after he was gone, Madara tried to use him for his own ends…namely, fulfilling his vengeance against Konoha; doing everything that he had sacrificed so much to prevent…would Sasuke comply? Or would he do the right thing?

As much as it killed him to admit it, Itachi honestly did not know the answer to his own question.

* * *

As the days crawled by, although he was making a conscious effort to attempt to wholeheartedly enjoy the time he had left, in order to stop experiencing the emotions of regret and sorrow, Itachi only felt his stress levels increasing. He was chronically worried about Madara and Sasuke, but of late, Sakura had begun to worry him as well, and he found himself watching over her as continuously but subtly as he could. He had noticed that her demeanor had become different since he and Kisame had returned from Rain – she seemed less like her usual engaged, focused self, and more…unfocused and distant, for lack of a more precise term. Even when she was sitting next to him, during a moment's lapse in the conversation, her attention would drift and it would become clear that she was somewhere else mentally, before she came back to herself with a start after he gently prompted her.

There were dark circles under her eyes, her skin looked somewhat ashen, and on the nights that he didn't spend with her in her room, Itachi noticed that she would be up all night, the glow of the lamp visible from the crack underneath her door. It was obvious that Sakura was not sleeping and had not in quite some time, but every time he had quietly asked her if there was anything wrong, she had shaken her head and said that it was nothing. Something subtle yet tangible had changed between them, distorting the dynamics of their relationship, and he found himself powerless to stop it, as much as he hated it. Itachi knew what it was on his end – he was now more painfully conscious than ever that what they had could not last, and was in fact rapidly approaching an end that he was not ready for. There was clearly something weighing on Sakura's mind as well. Perhaps she was subconsciously picking up on the tension within the household as he and Kisame were waiting to move to confront Sasuke, and she was aware that he was keeping something from her. He tried to act normally – as normally as he could, under the circumstances, even though sometimes the mere act of looking at her made his throat tighten with guilt and misery.

He was aware that she couldn't fail to pick up on this, and true enough, one night, as Itachi sat downstairs and blankly stared at the dark television screen, listening to the distant sound of Kisame's snores emanating from the downstairs bedroom, he was startled to see Sakura emerging from the staircase, looking a little lost. Itachi rose, an inquiry already halfway out of his lips, but by the time he could even finish his sentence, Sakura had already crossed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him tightly, hugging him so close that all the breath left his body in a surprised little sigh as he looked down at her head. For some reason, considering her recent distance, it was the last thing he had expected. It took a moment before Itachi reciprocated the contact a little awkwardly, and Sakura turned her head to the side, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart, even as she had to bite her lip to keep her eyes from suddenly and inexplicably filling up with tears.

She couldn't bring herself to let go, and Itachi finally guided the two of them over to the sofa without releasing her. He sat, pulling her close and letting her rest her aching head against his chest as he rubbed small, soothing circles against her back. They didn't talk, but it was a comfortable and understanding silence, and every night since then, despite her own nearly paralyzing degree of confusion, Sakura sought him out. In the privacy of his room or the darkened downstairs, Itachi allowed himself the freedom to express a little more emotion than he normally did, and even though he still didn't talk about it, he held her tightly, sometimes pressing his lips against the top of her head, as though he was afraid that if he released his grip for a moment, he would never be able to get her back. And, night after night, Sakura clung on to him just as tightly because – no matter what, no matter what (_paranoid_? _Irrational?_) doubts and fears and speculations and confusions crossed her mind on a daily basis – she _loved _Itachi. He was safe, and he loved her too, and regardless of the growing uncertainty that seemed to swallow her mind alive at times, that was the only certainty she held fast to.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :) I do apologize for the slowness of this chapter, but it was very much a transitional one. My summer schedule is quite busy, but I will try my best to have the second part of this chapter out as soon as possible, maybe next week.


	10. The Unraveling, Part II

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was considerate enough to review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Ten: The Unraveling, Part II_

* * *

There was a brief period of time when Sakura looked forward to her dreams. When they were all she could think about during the day, and when she impatiently counted the hours of daylight down, until night fell and she was that much closer to being able to sleep and hopefully to dream again. After waking up from all of these dreams, she sat upright in bed and reached for the notepad she kept hidden in the topmost drawer of her nightstand, and she hastily took note of what and whom exactly she had dreamed about, her eyes shining with excitement. There were certain recurring figures that triggered an overwhelming feeling of warmth and familiarity and love in her, and 'seeing' them was one of the reasons she anticipated every night's sleep with such eagerness.

The blonde boy with the bright orange jumpsuit stood out the most, and then the tall, masked shinobi. Then there was the beautiful blue-eyed girl dressed in purple – Ino was her name; one of only two names that Sakura had been able to remember. _Ino-pig_, she had called her, for some reason. A couple more recurring figures were the chubby red-haired boy with the armor, who always carried the potato chips, and another boy dressed in green with a lazy look on his face and spiky black hair pulled into a ponytail. Lastly, there was a gentle-looking lady with short black hair, who wore an elegant gray dress and often (inexplicably enough) carried around a chubby little pig – and, of course, Tsunade-shishou, who had taught her everything she knew as a medic.

This night had started like any other. Sakura snuggled under the covers eagerly, closing her eyes, because last time, she had dreamed about sitting with the blonde boy with the infectious laugh and smile like sunshine, at some kind of outdoor restaurant eating ramen. It had been mundane, compared to some of the other wild dreams she'd had, but she had awoken with a smile on her face anyway. Sakura slipped off to sleep with her eyes shut tight, her brow furrowed with anticipation of what was to come, and her heart beat faster than usual out of excitement.

The dream she ended up having had that night, instead, was utterly terrifying. She was standing in the place she now knew as the Forest of Death, horrorstruck, with the orange boy at her side and the blue-shirted boy she occasionally, vaguely, dreamed about at her other side, and they were confronted by a horrible, shape-shifting _thing. _There was no other way to describe it. It started as a man, unnaturally pale and long-haired, with a sneer on his face, but with every ninjutsu that he used and attack he aimed at them, he turned more and more – _literally _– snakelike, into a freakish hybrid unlike anything she had ever heard of before. He was attacking the boys, and the chakra that emanated from him was the darkest and most frighteningly suffocating and overwhelming that she had ever felt, and worse than that, she was powerless. Utterly powerless to prevent the nightmarish serpent-human shinobi from hurting her teammates, leaving them broken and unresponsive on the forest floor. She cradled them in her arms, but they wouldn't wake up.

That was the first night Sakura woke up in tears, shaking spasmodically, her body curled up into a tight fetal position. It was hard to get through the day that followed, and she kept trying to convince herself that the nightmare was just probably a one-time thing; that she had grown up in a shinobi village and of course not all of her memories would be sunshine and rainbows. After lying awake rigidly for an hour that night, muscles tense beyond belief, she finally managed to fall asleep, and it was only then – well, to be accurate, four hours later, when she almost fell out of the bed, soaked in cold sweat and her bottom lip bleeding because of how hard she had bitten it during the night – that Sakura realized just how wrong she might have been.

It was most definitely not a one-time occurrence. No matter how fervently she hoped otherwise, every night before she went to bed, these dreams had gone on for a little over a week now, with each nightmare just as disturbing and traumatic as the last. Needless to say, it was different from any normal nightmares, because the worst thing was knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that all of this had happened to her – that all of this was _real. _Once, she had been crushed to within an inch of her life within the iron grip of an unyielding fist made out of sand, and Sakura had woken with her ribs aching. Even worse, though, was what came the next night – seeing her blonde teammate hurt, sometimes seriously, blood trickling from the corners of his mouth and bones fractured, before he gradually stood up straight and prepared to fight again. His extraordinary determination was tangible. He inspired her and worried her all at the same time, and from the frequency that she dreamed about him, Sakura knew that he had been important to her. One of the episodes involving him had bordered on the nonsensical, though. She had the feeling that it was on the battlefield, and the boy was yelling at an unseen opponent. His normally sky-blue eyes began to glow an unearthly red, while an aura of tremendously powerful, orange-tinted chakra began to emanate from every inch of his skin.

This was on the same night that Sakura had the next new nightmare, one that rattled her even further. She fell asleep again after the first nightmare to find herself standing in some kind of cave with an elderly lady at her side, and the remembered horror and sorrow she felt at the sight before her eyes was as strong as if this had just happened yesterday. There was a red-haired boy dressed in desert clothes lying motionless, limp as a rag doll, on the cave floor, and in a flagrant display of cruel disrespect that made her stomach turn, there was another shinobi _sitting _on him. Blonde, male, so arrogant and disgusting that it made her want to _scream._

And all Sakura could notice about him, in her dream, was the cloak he wore. Black embroidered with many scarlet clouds. Sickeningly familiar. The very same one that she saw on Itachi and Kisame every day.

It was the very first thought that came to her mind when she woke up, twisted into an uncomfortable position in the corner of the bed, as if bracing for an attack. It was the _only _thought that she could seem to focus on, and it circulated around her mind in a relentless endless loop that made her want to grip her fingers into her hair until the pain distracted her. Itachi and Kisame wore the same cloak as the man who had killed her friend and so cruelly disrespected him after death. And she didn't know what it _meant. _

Sakura stayed upstairs in her room for most of the day, claiming a headache, unable to open her bedroom door and face either of them. She lay on her side on the floor, rigid and unmoving, thinking so desperately hard that her vision blurred and at several points she couldn't remember or distinguish between what was real and what wasn't. Such uncontrolled displays of emotion were very unlike her, but she often found herself crying intermittently, when the confusion and disorientation and yes, suspicion, became too much to deal with. All she wanted was to run into the kitchen downstairs and flip back the pages of the calendar to one month ago, before all of this had started and when she felt so perfectly carefree and at home with Itachi and Kisame (and when Itachi and Kisame didn't look so tense and worried all the time, and before Itachi started spending so much time looking through the letters he received from his contacts and staring at the calendar every morning, looking like the innocuous pages foretold his doom). His strange behavior in itself was yet another weight pressing down on Sakura's shoulders. She was his partner in more ways than one; she should know what was going on with him; she should have _asked, _but all of what had been going on in her own life had stretched her own emotional capacity to the limits.

The sight of the setting sun brought on a sense of panic that she had never felt before. _Can't sleep, can't sleep, don't sleep, _Sakura couldn't keep herself from thinking frantically, with every breath that she inhaled and exhaled. _If I don't sleep, the nightmares can't come to me. _So she stayed up all night when darkness fell, unwilling to close her eyes for fear of what terrible tableaus would play out in her mind's eye if she did. She reread one of her books, hardly paying attention to it, and sparked herself with brief electric jolts of chakra whenever she felt like her eyelids were in danger of drifting shut. The thought of sleep, and what further dark secrets her memories held, frightened her so much that her hands began to tremble every time it even crossed her mind. It was only when she saw the sun beginning to rise through her bedroom window that she could breathe easily again, feeling as though she had a few hours of safety.

Sakura made it through the next day again, fully intending to repeat this treatment on herself for the second night in a row, but the second she curled up in her armchair after coming upstairs from dinner, she fell asleep, unable to hold out for any longer.

This nightmare was more disjointed than the others had been, but no less terrifying for that. It was just composed of brief scenes and feelings, all unusually vivid. The adrenaline coursing through her veins, the pull of the chakra strings guided by the same old lady that she'd dreamed about last time. The cold, unrelenting knowledge that she was fighting for her life (the hardest fight of her life), and the lady's, and her teammate's, and the briefest misstep on her part would result in death. Her opponent was another creature that seemed to defy reality – some kind of strange puppet-man. She held her own, but then even when the fight looked like it was over, like she and the old lady had won, something happened; he broke his bonds, and the puppet-man tried to run the old lady through with the sword, and that couldn't happen, and—

Sakura dashed forward and took the strike instead, positioning herself in front of the older woman without even thinking about it, and there was one sickening instant when she saw it coming, and then felt the blade pierce her in the stomach and straight through – the cold steel was _inside _her – and then protrude from her back. Piercing her internal organs; shredding skin; tearing her apart. Her blood was hot, against her hands, and…

She fought to wake up, before it could get any worse. Her eyelids felt leaden and her vision blurry, but she forced her eyes open and struggled to keep them open. She had slid off the armchair and onto the floor sometime during the course of the dream, and though her muscles were unbearably stiff and there was a crick in her neck, Sakura couldn't find the strength to get up. Her cheeks were damp with tears, and she could feel her heart pounding hard and hear her own ragged breaths.

The man who had stabbed her had been wearing a black-and-red cloak too. Akatsuki. Her…enemy. She knew that. She had thought that, or…her past-self had, during the fight. Whatever.

The implications of everything crushed her like iron, and Sakura pulled herself up with difficulty. When she did, she lost her balance, staggering against the edge of the bed. She placed one hand on her stomach, where she had been impaled, and shuddered to feel herself whole – at the very same instant that she remembered, explicitly, looking down and seeing the sword protruding from her body and the blood beginning to seep from the massive wound. What had happened? She was all right now, obviously, but what had happened to the old lady, and to the red-haired boy that the Akatsuki had killed…and to her teammates? The masked shinobi, the orange-clad boy? It hadn't been too long ago, she felt, with a sudden certain, intuitive spark of knowledge. Maybe even less than the year that Itachi and Kisame had claimed that she had been _their _teammate…

She buried her head in her hands, huddling within herself for several moments as she tried to regain her composure. No, she couldn't think of that right now. And despite the raging confusion inside of her, Sakura's first instinct was to grab her pillow in one hand and make her way to the door, wiping the tears away from her face with the palm of her hand. Regardless of – everything that was going on inside her mind – Itachi was what she needed right now. He made her feel calm, and sane, and at peace, like everything was once again right in the world and in her head and not falling apart.

She knocked on the door to his room a couple of times, before folding her arms around her pillow, hugging it close. A few moments passed before Itachi opened the door, and Sakura could see that the lights were on and the bed was made; despite the late hour, he obviously hadn't slept yet. "Sorry for bothering you," she murmured, looking at the floor and realizing just how weary she was. "I just…"

She trailed off, momentarily losing her train of thought, and Itachi immediately confiscated her pillow and took her limp hand in his, leading her inside. "There is nothing to apologize for," he countered gently, and Sakura felt herself relaxing just a little bit at the sound of his voice.

She headed in the direction of his bed, intending to lie down and try to unwind somewhat, but then she hesitated, noticing something on the sand-colored blankets that she had never seen before. It was a small black-and-white photograph, looking somewhat lonely and forlorn, lying by itself. It was obvious that Itachi had been sitting in bed and looking at it when she had knocked, and Sakura settled herself down on the blankets before inspecting it, the slightest threads of fascination emerging from her stress and fatigue. She was vaguely aware of Itachi joining her, but her unwavering attention was devoted to the four faces in the photograph. She brushed her fingers against the two adults' faces first, taking in the shape of the eyes and the contours of the faces, and there was no question that this could only be Itachi's family. His verbal descriptions of their personalities and little stories that he had told her seemed to match their appearances perfectly. His father stood straight and stiff-backed, the expression on his face stern and unyielding, with no trace of warmth. Though he couldn't have been very old, there were pronounced stress lines on his face. In contrast, Itachi's mother had a gentle smile – similar to Itachi's – and a sparkle in her eyes that perfectly complemented the aura of warmth that seemed to emanate from her. She was beautiful, but she made Sakura's heart ache for the mother that she herself couldn't remember.

Itachi was several years younger in the photo, looking only thirteen or so years old, and Sakura touched his face lightly, taking in the extraordinarily serious, focused expression on his face, and the stress lines underneath his eyes. She looked up at him and felt a small, reluctant smile tugging at her lips. Yes, it was definitely still her very same Itachi. But then another face in the photograph drew Sakura's attention – the younger boy, standing between his parents, his mother's arms on his shoulders. He looked like he was about eight in the photo, and this had to be Itachi's younger brother, the one he said was her age—

She stared into his face, taking in the way his hair hung into his eyes and framed his cheeks, down to such minute details as the set of his mouth, and Sakura felt a strange shiver run down her spine as she gently tapped the tip of her finger on the boy's head. Something pressed against her chest as if it was yearning to get out, and… "Sasuke," she whispered, almost to herself, her voice barely audible. She didn't know where it had come from – she didn't remember Itachi ever telling her his brother's name before – but she knew that was it. The name felt unbearably natural and _right_ on her lips and in her mind, as if she had said or thought it a million times before. _Sasuke Uchiha. _

And yet, as strange as it seemed, considering the…familiarity…she felt, she had never seen him before…right? He seemed vaguely familiar, yes, but that was only because he was Itachi's younger brother, after all, and the family resemblance was clear even in the photo. Right?

It felt like ice water had replaced the blood in his veins, and Itachi froze, his muscles tensing up as he watched Sakura stare at his brother so searchingly. She had said his name. He had never, ever mentioned Sasuke's name to her before. It was what he had been afraid of from the second he had seen Sakura's gaze light on the photograph, but by then, it had been too late. He could hardly have ripped it out of her hands. He should have been more careful; he should have just taken another second to put the photo back in his bedside drawer where it normally resided, before opening the door. This spontaneous recovery of Sasuke's name could very well be a sign of total recall, and—

Sakura finally, gently rested the photograph back on the blankets and turned to him, placing her hands in his and looking up at him guilelessly. "Why don't you have a more recent picture?"

It took him a moment to comprehend the innocuousness of her words, and another for Itachi to determine that the query, and the expression on her face, was entirely genuine. Sakura didn't even seem to question how Sasuke's name had sprung to her mind. The sudden release of tension was almost painful, but not as much as the guilt he felt and the nature of her question and the truth of the answer, and all of a sudden, Itachi felt his throat close over, bringing him closer to tears than he had been in years, before he forced himself to regain his composure and his typically calm tone. "The opportunity never came up," he responded, and every word hurt.

She let him put the photograph away and draw the covers back, and she turned off the lamp, and Itachi reached for Sakura as he always did, pulling her into his arms and holding her close, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. He hadn't been blind to the fact that her eyes had been reddened when she had knocked on his door, combined with how saddened and withdrawn she had seemed over the past few days. His utter powerlessness to help made Itachi feel a little sick. Sakura curled up against him, resting the top of her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around him, and he braced his hands against her back, rubbing gentle circles against the fabric of her shirt, knowing that she would open up to him when she was ready. Sakura's eyes were closed, but she showed no signs of sleeping. After a long while, her fingers curled into fists around his loose black t-shirt, and she gave a deep, shuddering sigh, as if she was breaking down from the inside out and unable to hold it in any longer. "I think I'm going crazy, Itachi," she confessed quietly, her voice choked with tears. "I keep having…these awful dreams, every single night…"

Her words didn't really take him for surprise, considering the fact that he had noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the ashen tone of her skin, and the way she kept her bedroom light on all night, but the confirmation of what Sakura had been going through made Itachi grimace a little. He was no stranger to chronic, visceral nightmares and the effect they could have on the psyche, and he had just opened his mouth to try and comfort her when Sakura continued to speak, her voice sounding even more tremulous. "I mean…it doesn't even make sense, but some of the nightmares…they're just so…there are these people, in black-and-red cloaks just like yours and Kisame's, but not like you and Kisame, because they killed my friend and left him lying in some cave in the middle of nowhere, and they stabbed me right through the stomach, and…"

Sakura stopped abruptly, now sobbing too hard to speak, and Itachi could do nothing but stroke her hair mechanically, as if her words hadn't just filled him with a deep sense of sinking dread. Everything was beginning to make sense. He hadn't witnessed the events she was talking about firsthand, but he still knew them all too well. Deidara. Sasori. The capture of the Kazekage.

Itachi tried to comfort her, all too aware that he knew nothing of the special brand of anguish and torment that must be consuming her mind. Every single word was a lie, no matter how kind it sounded, and it was terrible of him, but it still was what he had been doing since he turned thirteen, and how was this any different? "It's not real," he told her, as softly and reassuringly as he could. "I know that such recurring events may be traumatic to experience, but it is ultimately nothing to worry about." He stopped then, and even through her blurred vision and hitched breathing, Sakura could see the shadow that flitted over his face. She touched his cheek, worried, and then Itachi seemed to come back to himself somewhat, exhaling slowly. "…I have had frequent, terrifying nightmares myself," he admitted after several moments, his voice barely audible. "The things that the unconscious mind comes up with in sleep can often be disturbing and violent, as well as unexplainable."

Sakura inclined her head, wanting badly – more intensely than she had ever wanted anything – to believe him. But she couldn't, not quite. She wanted to be honest with Itachi about what she felt, as she always had before; to spill out her torrent of confusion…but what could she say? That she believed, from the clarity of the dreams, that they were not just random nightmares at all, but her own memories returning? That in the moments where she lost her grip on reality, she remembered what she had read in the shinobi history book about missing-nin, like Itachi, having rescinded their allegiances to their villages after criminal acts? That she had made the connection and was battling with the knowledge that Itachi and Kisame's Akatsuki was the same one that had killed her friend, targeted Roshi for the demon he held inside him…and had tried to kill her and her teammates as well? And how could she possibly admit that in those darker moments, she had doubts that the two of them had told her the whole truth when she had recovered from that head injury? Sakura wanted to hear his answer; she wanted to hear the whole truth. But at the same time, now that she thought about it, she was paralyzed with fear at what the answer would be.

She blinked to keep her eyes from filling with tears again, noticing the concern written into every feature of Itachi's face, and so she nodded. It was – so hard – knowing Itachi and Kisame like she did, knowing that they were both good people who genuinely cared for her, while still having these subconscious suspicions working away at the back of her mind. "Okay," she said in a small voice. "I understand. I'll try to remember."

Itachi patted the tears away from her face with infinite care and kissed her pale cheekbones and lips, holding her close like he could keep her safe. Finally, realizing once again how bone-weary she was – too much to fret any longer – Sakura pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone and settled herself against him, draped over his chest like a blanket. And in spite of everything else, she still felt reassured when he was near. The other men in the black-and-red cloaks may have been her enemies, but when it came down to it, she just could not bring herself to think of Itachi like that. Not considering the way he looked at her and the millions of things about him that were just so innately good and kind and gentle, and for the millionth time, Sakura hoped that his decision to leave Konoha and his allegiance with this…Akatsuki…was born out of reasons beyond 'criminal behavior'. "Good night, Itachi," she whispered, drained. "Thank you."

She was asleep within minutes, and Itachi had always found it easier for himself to fall asleep when Sakura was near him, but tonight, he was unable to let himself be lulled by the fragrance of her hair and the feeling of her heart beating against his; her body rising and falling slightly with every breath. She had cured his illness, yes, but he felt the old, familiar heavy, immovable weight and pressure creeping back, deep within his chest. As recently as a couple of weeks ago, he had been sure that this would never happen…but now it was painfully clear that his earlier suspicions, when he had come across Sakura reading that book about the history of the world's shinobi villages, had been justified. Her memories were slowly but surely returning, as evidenced by the subject matter of the nightmares she was having, and the thought filled Itachi with so much helpless apprehension that he could do nothing more but lie in bed, his exhaustion forgotten, as he stared at the ceiling blankly, at a complete and utter loss as to where to go from here.

* * *

It was the little things, after that. A slow, gradual unraveling that played out before Itachi's very eyes, simultaneously transfixing and horrifying, because he couldn't look away, even though he wanted _so very badly _to pretend that it wasn't happening; that everything wasn't falling apart right in front of him. The first instance occurred during one afternoon, when he and Sakura were walking through the main street of a crowded border town, her fingers intertwined with his. She was talking to him about a movie she had seen advertised at the local theater that she thought Kisame would like, before she caught sight of two teenage boys walking in the opposite direction on the other side of the street. They were just civilians obviously returning from school; both carried textbooks in their arms. One had short blonde hair and wore an orange t-shirt, and the other had dark hair and a shirt in a deep shade of navy blue.

It happened in a matter of seconds. One instant, Sakura was earnestly discussing how she thought Kisame would secretly enjoy the film's romantic subplot, and next, she had caught the eye of the dark-haired boy for a split second. He nodded politely, and then she stopped dead, staring, as if lost, after the two boys as they disappeared into the crowd. Without further ado, Sakura abruptly released his fingers and turned to follow them, as if – as if she was suddenly, entirely, completely _sure _that they were the ones that she belonged with; that she was supposed to be walking at their side. The decisive suddenness of the action had taken Itachi for surprise, and Sakura made it several feet before stopping suddenly, as if coming back to herself, and allowing Itachi to catch up with her. The dazed expression on her face as she stared after them had actually scared him (he realized who the objects of her attention had resembled, a second too late, after she had already fled), and he put his arm around her shoulders. When he asked if she was all right, she leaned into him, putting one hand to her forehead. "Sorry," she mumbled softly, sounding unfocused. "I don't know what I was doing…"

Another time, all three of them had been watching the television – the local news, unusually enough – in the living room of the base, when an older, red-haired, green-eyed man had appeared on the screen. He wore an obviously expensive dark, tailored suit, and the title under his name proclaimed him an esteemed financial analyst. The instant he came on, Sakura, who had been reclining on the sofa, her head resting on Itachi's shoulder, stiffened up as if she found herself suddenly under attack. She slowly sat up straight, keeping her eyes trained on the screen.

"I never thought you were so interested in the state of the economy, kid," Kisame chuckled, amused by her change in demeanor. "There's no need to worry. When you're in our line of work, you don't have to worry about job security…"

He lifted the remote, obviously intending to change the channel, and Sakura wordlessly reached out, taking his hand and pressing it back down to the sofa, still staring at the screen as if mesmerized. She was blind to the look that Itachi and Kisame exchanged behind her back; to the cautious way that Kisame finally pointed to his eye, directed a quick glance between the screen and the back of Sakura's head, and silently mouthed _Dad? _to Itachi.

Itachi could do nothing more but incline his head slowly, uncomfortably aware of how dry his throat was. The memory came to him unbidden, that in better times, there had been a civilian accountant who did the taxes for his entire clan. His father had deemed him the only one in the village competent enough to handle the task. There had been a few times that he had left for missions in the morning and passed through the kitchen to see the accountant sitting with his mother and father. He had been a thoughtful-looking, middle-aged man with red hair, always impeccably dressed in a dark suit and clutching a briefcase…and Itachi's fingers tightened into a white-knuckled fist when he remembered that the man had eyes the same shade of bright green as Sakura's, as well as a similarly slight build.

It could have been coincidence, but somehow, instinct told him otherwise. Without knowing the man's name, though, he had never made the connection before, between the kunoichi who sat at his side and the almost-forgotten accountant. The thought was almost physically painful, like a knife to the ribs, as Itachi tried not to stare at Sakura, who was staring raptly at the screen. Over the course of the months they had spent together, he had effectively memorized every single one of her unique physical characteristics and little idiosyncrasies, but now he found himself seeing her in a different light. At her small hands, clasped together tightly and pressed between her knees; the way her thick, bright pink hair caught the light and tumbled down over her shoulders; the angle of her cheekbones. As asinine as it sounded, he had never fully comprehended the fact – not until now – that this girl was somebody's _daughter. _That the accountant and his wife would have spent countless days and nights weeping over the fact that their child was missing in action, presumed dead, and grieving that they would never again feel her embrace, kiss her on the cheek, or tenderly tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear as she smiled at them. The anguish that they must have felt was incomprehensible.

He had to look away then, unprepared for the nearly overwhelming guilt and remorse that swept over him. For her part, Sakura didn't even seem to blink until the segment was over and the program cut to commercial, after which she slowly began to relax.

It was this incident of a few days ago – there had been nothing since then, thankfully – that lingered heavily on Itachi's mind as he washed the dishes as if on autopilot, too preoccupied to pay much attention to Kisame's absentminded humming as he sat at the kitchen table, re-bandaging the worn restraints on the massive shark-skin Samehada. As it was mostly unsheathed, Itachi could feel the sword's pull on his chakra, and he turned back and raised an eyebrow at Kisame wordlessly.

"What can I say?" Kisame retorted defensively, reading his expression correctly. "It's hungry. It's been way too long since I've used it in combat…although that's going to be rectified soon."

Sakura walked into the kitchen then, wearing her pajamas and wringing out her damp hair on the kitchen floor. She flinched at the feeling of the sword reaching for her chakra as well, before giving Kisame quizzical look as she headed for the refrigerator, pouring herself a cold glass of water. "What was that?"

Itachi shot Kisame a significant look, and his partner cleared his throat gruffly. "I was just saying that it's been a while since we took down the last target. We should have a new mission and a new target to go after soon."

Sakura rolled her eyes, leaning against the counter next to Itachi and sipping from her water. "How wonderful," she replied sarcastically.

"Hey, if you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen, kid. Although…" Kisame eyed the distending scales of the sword as it strained toward the two other chakra sources in the room. "This might be easier if I do it somewhere else."

He stood up, lifting the sword to its customary sheath across his back in a casual display of his customary speed and strength. Although Itachi hardly batted an eyelid, beside him, Sakura suddenly flinched away as if preparing for a blow, her fingers tightening around the glass so hard that a tiny crack emerged in it, and as close to her as he was, Itachi heard her startled intake of breath. Kisame blinked, surprised by her vehement reaction, and on his way out, he patted her on the shoulder, obviously trying to be reassuring. "Don't worry, I've never lost control of it. Even if I did, it would probably go for Itachi's chakra, not yours. No offense."

Sakura smiled weakly and watched him go, but Itachi could still see the minute tremors that raced through her body as she put the glass down. "I'm just going to go back upstairs," she told him, at last, before standing on the tips of her toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "My door's unlocked."

He squeezed her hand silently and watched her go, unable to respond to her kiss or her smile or think of anything beyond the leaden feeling in his stomach, and the look on her face and the sudden tension and fear in her body language as Kisame had wielded the sword. Itachi knew all too well that Sakura had seen Kisame tending to Samehada a hundred times before; that she had even trained with him in the backyard while he swung it around without abandon, and during those times, she had never showed a trace of anxiety or fear. The silence in the kitchen was becoming oppressive, and in that instant, Itachi knew that he couldn't be alone with his thoughts; he couldn't keep this to himself; any longer.

He made his way to the living room, to where Kisame sat with the sword, carefully bandaging it. His partner glanced up, upon catching sight of his expression, the casual greeting died on his lips. "What's wrong?" he asked cautiously.

Itachi sunk down on the sofa – the same one on which he had shared his first kiss with Sakura – and all the breath left his body in a long, weary sigh. In that moment, the cumulative stress and despair of the past several months seemed to weigh on him so heavily that the only possible answer to Kisame's query seemed to be "_everything", _and he closed his eyes as a means of brief respite from the pounding ache in his head. "I believe that Sakura's memory is returning," he replied quietly.

Kisame stared and went very still, before setting the sword down. "I know she hasn't been completely her usual self recently, but…"

"Since we returned from Rain," Itachi completed flatly.

Kisame leaned back and frowned at the ceiling, thinking back. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I think it was around that time that she started seeming a little…off."

"When we returned from the sealing, I found her reading a book about the history of the world's shinobi villages."

Kisame took a deep breath, looking startled, and Itachi took the opportunity to fill him in on everything that had happened since that time as concisely and impassively as he could. First, the recurring nightmares, which clearly showed that Sakura was beginning to remember her confrontation with Deidara and Sasori – and the fact that she had pieced together the truth about the Akatsuki to a great extent. The way she had spontaneously remembered Sasuke, her childhood teammate's, name after she had seen his younger self in the photograph. Later, the incident when she had abandoned him in the middle of the village market in order to rush to the side of two boys who obviously and powerfully reminded her of Naruto and Sasuke. Then the episode with the financial analyst on the news who had resembled her father, and now, finally…the fact that Sakura seemed to be coming to fear Kisame. Or, if not Kisame himself, the weapon that he favored; the one that was infamous among Konoha shinobi. The commonly held belief was that facing Samehada in battle was a death sentence. Sakura would have heard that a hundred times from the village's older, more seasoned shinobi.

Itachi's voice became lower and lower as he talked, and the building tension in his frame was echoed by the expression on Kisame's face. "I didn't think this would happen," his partner mumbled, directing a cautious look at the staircase. He looked as disturbed as Itachi felt. "It's been so long…"

Itachi stared out the dark window for several moments, lost in thought. That freezing winter night when he and Kisame had made it into the base, holding a critically injured and unconscious Sakura, seemed like a lifetime ago. She had been an enemy kunoichi; a hostile force. They had sat right here and discussed what they would do when she woke up, and agreed that they would lead her to believe that she had been saved for the sole purpose of being imprisoned and forced to heal his eyes. After a week or so, they would let her go. It had been an almost laughably simple plan. But then, three days later, when she had woken up with no memory of anything except her name, everything had changed so drastically. At the beginning, Kisame had been so reluctant to aid her. Even he personally had known nothing of Sakura save for the fact that she was Sasuke's former teammate and Tsunade's apprentice. But now…

The despair he felt now was the kind of deep, desperate intensity of feeling usually reserved for memories of Sasuke as an innocent, happy child, and Itachi closed his eyes. When was it all going to piece together? What would trigger total recall in Sakura's mind? She had already briefly associated fear with Kisame, although she had always gotten along wonderfully with him. When would she look at him or Kisame and then scream or stagger back in fright and horror and shock as she finally realized the truth of it all? It could be in one hour, or the next morning, or in two days. It could happen at any moment now, theoretically. Itachi sighed again, his head continuing to pound mercilessly. It felt like every little bit of stress and worry and emotional conflict was piling up at once – the impending confrontation with Sasuke, Sakura regaining her memory faster and sooner than he had anticipated – and it made him so miserable that he felt ill.

His most recent plan had been, when the time came, to tell Sakura that he was going to Rain because his mother or Shisui was terribly ill. He would leave to search for Sasuke. After two days, Kisame would worry about his whereabouts and come searching for him (in actuality, fulfilling his role in the plan) – after which he would return to the base, afterward, and convey to Sakura the news that he had been killed by a team of hunter-nin. A lie, of course, but a necessary one. Then he was going to take her to Rain and make some inquiries with Konan, who would establish her as a doctor in one of the city's civilian hospitals. But that plan seemed to be falling apart, now. Sakura was regaining her memories, and so it would never work. He would have to act on the alternate course now; the contingency plan that he and Kisame had devised months ago, and – Itachi found his trail of thought derailing, and he gritted his teeth, feeling an unusual rush of mingled frustration and pain and anger. And why – why the hell did it even matter, because either way, _either way, _whichever way it would play out, he would lose her. He would lose her, and until now, Itachi had never comprehended the entire devastating impact of this realization with such clarity.

Maybe Kisame had seen a little bit of his emotions reflected in his eyes, because a strange expression crossed his face. He hesitated visibly for several moments, visibly torn and seeming as though he was struggling with whether to get involved or not, but when he finally spoke, there was an unusual intensity and urgency to his tone. Yes, this was unlike him, and he couldn't believe he had even considered this, but it was something he felt like he _had _to say. Maybe it was foolish, but he cared for his partner and regarded him as a friend, after all. He didn't want to see Itachi allow the only thing that had brought him happiness since the deaths of his family, to slip through his fingers. "Itachi. Listen. You have a choice. I – I wouldn't suggest it, if it was anybody else, but…"

Itachi paused, surprised by the fact that Kisame was offering his personal opinion like this, and Kisame trailed off, before resuming again, staring at Itachi intently. "You can use the Sharingan to erase whatever memories of Konoha are re-emerging in Sakura's head. You can do that and take her and leave and be _happy. _She's always talked about how she wants to see the coast, and you know, if you keep traveling in lesser known areas of the countries, both of you will be safe from your brother, from Madara, even from teams of Konoha shinobi who might recognize Sakura. There are a lot of options – and there are remote places you could eventually settle down where your brother and even Madara could never find you—"

Kisame read the expression on Itachi's face correctly and narrowed his eyes, interrupting him before he could even begin. "It's not your problem what Madara does to Konoha, anyway," he said harshly. "And you did a big thing by sparing Sasuke's life in the first place. You know that it would have been comparatively easier for you if you had made it a clean break and killed him too. Let Sasuke chase you until he gets tired of it, so that the kid can go live his own life instead. You've done _enough _for him. One day he'll grow up and realize killing you won't bring them back. You've spent your whole life sacrificing for other people. Do yourself a favor for once."

He stopped, looking at Itachi searchingly. Taking it as a good sign that his partner hadn't spoken yet, and was continuing to stare at him, an unreadable expression on his face, Kisame continued, trying to sound as persuasive as he could. "Itachi. Listen to me. There's no need for you to carry through with your plan. If you play this right, you can have _everything. _Your precious little brother's life is spared, and one day, he gets tired of chasing you in vain, and settles down to have a normal life, just like you always wanted. Even he isn't obsessed enough to spend another ten years hunting you down – we can even plant false intelligence and a few fake trails about your death, too, to throw him off sooner. Sakura's already fixed up your illness, so theoretically, you could live a long, healthy life. And you…well, the two of you could be together, without the rest of the…complications."

He fell silent abruptly, watching his partner with a slightly wary expression on his face, but Itachi hardly noticed. When Kisame had first started speaking, all he had felt was shock, that _Kisame _of all people would suggest something like this, and immediately afterward, he wanted to interrupt him and coldly say that it could not be done; he could never just abandon his duty to Sasuke and Konoha in that manner, and it would be cowardly to run away, and unfair to Sasuke, and too dishonest to Sakura, and then—

And then the picture that Kisame painted, of an altogether different future entirely, sunk in. Of he and Sakura traveling the world together, living in peace and contentment with one another. The deceit would be over; the entire horrible pretense of the past seven years. He would be absolved of the crushing sense of responsibility he felt to Sasuke and Konoha. For the first time, he could live his own life – with the girl he had come to love – and indulge in all the freedoms and million little everyday gifts that so many other people took for granted. He would get what he had secretly longed for throughout the past several weeks: to _live. _The mere thought was almost incomprehensible to him. And most importantly, throughout it all, Sakura would be at his side, and he would never again have to worry about losing her to her returning memories of her home…

It was a tempting, intoxicating prospect. It killed Itachi to admit it, even within the privacy of his own mind. The depths of his own dark, secret selfishness shocked and revolted him, and kami help him, but it was _so _tempting. The images that Kisame's words evoked were almost enough to take his breath away. It would be happiness beyond anything he had ever dreamed of or imagined for himself. And it would be so beautifully easy. He had erased memories with his bloodline limit before. It was a simple matter; easy and painless. Sakura would never even realize that anything had happened.

As for Sasuke…wasn't Kisame right, to some extent? Sasuke was alive and healthy, and perhaps he had done his younger brother a disservice in the first place, for pushing him to develop such a fixation for revenge. Over the past two years, Itachi had worried, many times, as to the unforeseen effect that his actions had on Sasuke's fragile psyche. Instead of pushing him to become stronger as he had anticipated, in some ways, it had broken him. Perhaps it would be best for him to essentially disappear. Sasuke could not chase him forever, and robbed of the chance to kill him – Kisame's idea of planting false intelligence about his own death had considerable merits – perhaps he would come to a place in his life where he would be able to do some serious introspection. It was true; Sasuke should realize that killing him would have never brought their family back, and even the act of 'avenging their deaths' would not have brought him inner peace. Maybe this would be the only way that Sasuke would be able to let go of the wounds of the past and find peace and a sense of closure for himself.

Itachi closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he struggled with his own confused, tangled thoughts for several long minutes. It made him ashamed, because it went against everything that he _was, _and everything that he had always been, but it was the truth. It shouldn't have been a difficult decision for him to come to, but it was.

"…I can't," Itachi admitted, finally, knowing with a heavy certainty that he was doing the right thing – no regrets – as he met his partner's gaze, trying to explain. "It would be…too dishonest," he managed, at last. "To Sakura. What happened at first was an accident that we had no control over, and I admit that I took advantage of the situation. Deliberately erasing her memories to serve my own purposes, however, would be even more unethical and deceitful than what I have been doing with her over the past several months, and this…" He stopped, his eyes darkening slightly out of sheer guilt. "My behavior has been reprehensible enough."

Kisame watched him for several moments, before finally, respectfully inclining his head in understanding. "What are you going to do, then?" he asked, a subtle trace of sympathy in his voice.

Itachi averted his gaze, feeling his chest constrict somewhat from of the force of emotion he felt. "I have to take her back to Konoha," he replied softly, the words threatening to stick in his throat. "It is the only thing that we can do at this point."

Kisame sat up straight, looking aghast. "What? I thought that you didn't want to do that because you didn't want to risk capture in the Fire Country! Not so close to…you know."

"We have no choice," Itachi said tersely. "We do not want Sakura regaining her memories here. That will only worsen this already tenuous situation." He stopped; swallowed over his dry throat, forcing himself to remain as flawlessly composed as always, and thought back to his former home. "In addition, at least in Konoha, she will get the help that she needs. She will be in a safe, familiar environment when total recall happens."

Kisame nodded grimly, unable to argue with his logic. "Fine, then. When do you want to do it?"

Itachi had been dreading this question. _Never. _He wanted to hold on to her tightly for as long as possible, and now, even so close to the end that he always knew was coming, as foolish as it made him, he still could not imagine saying goodbye. "…Tonight," he responded, his voice barely audible, sounding unimaginably detached and professional to his own ears. "Total recall may happen at any moment. We do not want to risk anything. In addition…" he hesitated, a new thought having occurred to him. "It is best that Sakura be safely occupied elsewhere by the time I proceed to meet Sasuke, just in case. I would not put it past her to attempt following me to '_Rain_', and who knows what havoc she could wreak on my plans."

Kisame inclined his head a fraction of an inch, looking a little pale, before he sighed. He unclenched his palms, looking ruefully down at the half-circles his nails had gouged into the skin. "I feel like a fool for letting this affect me so much," he admitted, in a rare moment of candor, and Itachi had the feeling that the disclosure took both of them for surprise. "Forming such an attachment…it's not like me. A Konoha kunoichi, for the kami's sake, and _her _in particular. It's just that…" he shook his head. "She really grew on you."

Itachi just nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and he felt Kisame looking at him seriously. "I'm sorry, kid," he said, a little awkwardly. "I really am."

Kisame stood up somewhat unsteadily and headed for the kitchen, then, proceeding directly for the cabinet that held the sake, and after a little while, Itachi rose to his feet and made his way up the staircase, as if on autopilot. He knew, with that very clear, removed certainty, exactly what he had to do, and that he was doing the right thing, but his heart was still beating too loudly within his chest and he couldn't remember the last time he had felt this – this _terrible. _But then again, he had learned all too early that in life that doing the right thing was never easy.

Sakura's door had been left half open, and he found her straightening up her room, absentmindedly humming the same tune that Kisame had been earlier. Upon catching sight of him lingering at the doorway, she turned and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "What took you so long?"

Itachi wasn't an inexperienced liar. It was second nature, after so long, but it still took a moment of effort to ensure that he sounded and appeared as normal as possible. "There were many dishes. Kisame had another snack."

Sakura rolled her eyes, taking his hand in hers and tugging him over to her bed. "Oh! That reminds me, we're out of beef and chicken, and we're running low on vegetables too. I have no desire to have seafood again tomorrow, so we have to go to the market in town tomorrow. There's an early showing of some kind of play in the afternoon as well, so maybe we can see that too…"

She looked up at him expectantly, and regardless of the sharp pang of regret he felt, Itachi gave her a small smirk. "As long as it is not one of your implausible, overly melodramatic romances."

"They are not implausible or overly melodramatic!" Sakura protested indignantly, before a rather mischievous look crossed her face. Without warning, she tackled him to the bed, and then proceeded to attempt to tickle him. "And I know you secretly like the steamy romances, don't you, Uchiha! Admit it!"

"_Sakura. _This is most undignified. You know that I am not ticklish, and that I most definitely do not like your romance novels—"

"Then why have you finished every single one that I've asked you to try, and even occasionally stayed up all night doing so? _Hmm_? I'm waiting for an answer!"

"…I was critiquing the prose to myself and considering how the work would be ten times more superior if I had written it."

Sakura went still, staring down at him with her hands braced on his chest, shocked. "…You're joking."

Even as Itachi tried his hardest to push all the sorrow that threatened to encroach away, saving it for later, he had to smile. Everything between the two of them was always destined to be temporary, but it had still been one of the sweetest experiences of his life, and he could not regret that. He had to enjoy this while it lasted. And he gently pulled Sakura on top of him like a blanket then, kissing her cheek and breathing in the scent of her hair, as it fell around him. "You're right," he whispered, trailing his fingers down her arm. "I only read them to pick up tips."

Sakura laughed, sounding purely happy, even as Itachi kissed her, curling one hand softly around the back of her neck. She reciprocated wholeheartedly, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pressing even closer.

Itachi knew that he should savor this; hold on to every moment and treasure it. And he did.

But that didn't change the fact that, as he pressed nibbling kisses to the pulse point in Sakura's neck, and felt her caress the muscles of his upper arms and chest, and the way she ran her fingers through his hair and gently tugged at it as she kissed him even deeper…a small part of him still felt…dirty, somehow. Detached and cold with dread, as he had been in the days leading up to the night he had killed his family. He had eaten meals with them, talked to them, and all the while, the truth about what he would do in a few days' time weighed on his mind like iron.

Itachi held the memories at bay by closing his eyes, letting Sakura's affectionate attention push them away for the moment. And even as he let his hands play along her bare skin, watching her close her eyes and arch toward him, ("_oh, Itachi,_") and make that little purring sound in the back of her throat that he loved, he knew – he knew that despite all of her feelings for him now, within two days, Sakura would probably know the truth about him and Kisame and be sickened, and that it would probably be this very memory that played in her head and tortured her—

He couldn't think about that, and Itachi found himself kissing Sakura with even more passion bordering on desperation than he had before, pressing her down into the sheets, trying to counteract the way his heart had fluttered due to the moment of panic. No. She would know that everything he had initially told her about her circumstances had been a lie, but – regardless of everything else – she had to know that _this _wasn't. That nothing about his feelings for her had been a pretense or deceit.

It was much later that night when Sakura tiredly reached out, draping her arm around his chest, and resting her cheek against his shoulder, snuggling up against him. Lost in thought, Itachi simply pressed a kiss to the top of her head. They rested in comfortable silence – on her part, at least – for several moments before she rose slightly, propping herself up on her elbows, and Itachi watched her regard him seriously. Sakura finally, gently brushed a stray lock of disarrayed hair behind his ear, and inexplicably, she smiled a little. "I love you, Itachi," she said quietly, sounding utterly at peace. "A lot."

Her words momentarily rendered him incapable of speech, and Itachi felt his heart give a painful twist. Incongruously, he thought back to the morning of October twelfth eight years ago, before everything had changed so momentously. The last morning. The way his mother had hugged him so lovingly and told him not to be late for dinner, because she was making his favorite – and despite himself, he had clung onto her more tightly than he had in years. It was so hard to let go, and to murmur his assent that he wouldn't be late for dinner and was looking forward to the meal. The memory made him feel more than a little ill, but more than anything else, more than whatever he felt right now – Itachi wanted Sakura's last memories of him, before she inevitably learned the truth from the Hokage, to be happy ones. He twined his fingers in Sakura's hair and lightly tugged her closer to him, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you too, Sakura," he murmured. "Very much." _Remember that._

Sakura beamed at him, before settling down and wishing him goodnight, and Itachi wrapped an arm around her, holding her securely until she nestled her head against his neck, her eyelids drifting shut.

It took twenty-five minutes for Itachi to determine that Sakura was safely sound asleep. He just watched her quietly for another fifteen, committing her features and voice to memory. The way she would frown when she was annoyed; the way she would tilt her head and bite her lip when she was very deep in thought; the stubborn expression in her eyes and set of her chin when she was particularly determined to get something done. Her smile. Little things, but these memories would provide him with much-needed solace as he approached the end. She had given him happiness that he hadn't had since leaving Konoha; happiness that he had resigned himself, then, to never experiencing again.

He was older and more mature now than he had been during the last time. And still, there was the same small, pleading little voice in the back of his head. _No, no, I don't want to, I don't want to do this…_

_But you must._

Itachi carefully brushed the long pink strands of hair away from Sakura's neck, exposing the pressure point that he sought. It would be painless. Unconsciousness would be instant and complete.

He hesitated for only a moment, before burying his thumb into the knot of nerves. He felt Sakura go limp, her breathing coming slower, and then, there was nothing but numbness. The removed, professional, detached feeling he remembered so well. There was no time for feeling now.

Itachi slid out of bed and dressed himself, the movements quick and mechanical, before doing the same to Sakura, zipping up her sleeveless crimson vest over her green lace bra, carefully tugging on and clasping her shorts and skirt, and then rather awkwardly maneuvering on the knee-high leather boots. Then he turned his attention to the contents of the drawers in the room, removing her summoning scroll from its resting place on the corner of her bookshelf, and her bag from where it lay against the wall. He emptied the contents of her dresser drawers carefully into the bag. Her medical textbooks and scrolls, her weapons, packs of dried fruit and protein bars, lip balm (green tea scented and flavored…it was the only time in his life that he had ever enjoyed the taste), lotion, a few cosmetic products. Itachi folded her gloves and clothes and underclothes neatly, with his typical obsessive-compulsiveness, and his touch lingered on the garments. They smelled like her strawberry-sweet soap, and briefly, he was tempted to take a small keepsake – just something that he could hold on to and remember; something that Sakura wouldn't miss, but eventually, he decided against it, and tucked everything safely into the bag, depositing the bag into the summoning scroll before he could change his mind.

Sakura lay still on the bed, and Itachi secured the summoning scroll in one of the pockets of her skirt, before gently picking her up, supporting her with one arm behind her knees and the other behind her back. He spared a moment to cast a look around the small, comfortably furnished room that she had made her own over the past several months – the room that they had spent so much time in together – and even though it was stripped of her belongings and looked somewhat forlorn and impersonal, now, her essence still seemed to linger.

Itachi closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to regain his focus. With one effortless pulse of chakra, in the blink of an eye, everything around them changed – the warm lights and familiar surroundings of the room were gone, replaced by a very dark night, a cool breeze, and the rustle of the wind through the countless trees that surrounded them. Not in the least disoriented by the nearly three-hundred mile transport, Itachi began to walk. To anybody else, this forest was nondescript enough in this pitch blackness, with only the thin sliver of crescent moonlight to guide their path, but as it always did when he was in this area of the Fire Country, Itachi felt his heart beginning to beat just a little faster. The forest that bordered Konoha…all too familiar for any shinobi who wore the village's insignia. He had trained in this area as a very young child, and patrolled and traveled through this territory as a chunin and jounin. If Sakura were to regain consciousness right now, her surroundings would likely bring back a flood of memories.

Itachi walked for a little bit more than two miles before the achingly familiar walls of Konoha's East Gate – toweringly high, and emblazoned with the village's seal at the very center – came into sight, rising above and through the trees like a specter. The wave of mingled nostalgia for better times and love for his former home that swept over him was as strong and disarming as always, but he dismissed the thoughts, unwilling to deal with the distraction. They were still quite a distance away, but he could not sense a patrol; as is it was so late, they would probably be stationed inside one of the guard towers on the far side of the walls, inside the village itself. For the first time, Itachi hesitated, looking down at Sakura. What Kisame said earlier about the dangers of this situation and the utmost necessity of avoiding detection and capture had been right; since the moment he had set foot in Fire Country territory, he had been on edge, all of his senses on hyper-alert. Solo ANBU operatives were known to return to the village at all hours. Despite the late hour, he wasn't safe here.

It took another few moments for him to come to a decision, and finally, Itachi stepped back, considering his surroundings warily. It was not a desirable situation, but it would be too risky for him to take Sakura into the village itself and determine a safe place to leave her. At this hour, the only option was the ANBU guard tower, and objectively speaking, it would not be a tactically wise decision on his part. But he had already determined that there was no potentially harmful wildlife in the remote vicinity; nothing larger than small deer, unlike the wolf packs that roamed in the area of Lightning where she had been injured. The weather was mild and would not be a threat to her either.

After a brief period of inspection, he found an area near enough the gates, the village's insignia clearly visible through the gaps in the trees, so that when Sakura woke up, she could see them from that distance and make her way over there. It would be morning by that time, and undoubtedly one of the patrols would recognize her and bring her in. Itachi lowered himself to his knees, carefully settling Sakura's motionless body down against one of the trees in as comfortable as a position as he could, precisely arranging her limbs to minimize soreness when she awoke.

Common sense told him that lingering in the area was dangerous, but Itachi found himself unable to even think about leaving just yet. He held one of Sakura's still hands in both of his own, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, as he struggled to cope with the emotions coursing through him. This would be the last time he saw her. He knew that. On the night that he had first found her, when Sakura had been lying so still that he feared she had passed on already, in a pool of her own blood and with her head so terribly bruised, he had never – _ever – _imagined what would eventually transpire between them. Everything had been so neatly planned and cut-and-dry in his mind…although his best-laid plans had gone awry, and that straightforward situation had ultimately turned out to be one of the most tumultuous times of his life.

Tumultuous, and memorable. Sakura had made him _feel, _as he hadn't in years. She had made him smile, and doubt, and fear, and remember exactly what it was like to love somebody with such unconditional completeness and devotion. It was a chance that he had never anticipated. So close to the end, that had been a gift worth more to him than he could ever express.

If he had to choose – if he _could _choose; if it was in his power to do so, he would never have chosen this ending for them. All the breath left Itachi's body in a quiet sigh as he reached out, brushing a few stray locks of hair out of her face. And yet, though it didn't have the conclusion that most expected from a romantic relationship, he never regretted getting involved with her. Perhaps it was irrational, but his hope was that even after Sakura found out the truth, she would still be able to remember him fondly.

Itachi looked over his shoulder at the familiar insignia of Konoha, and then back at Sakura, and though it was the last thing he expected, he actually felt a twinge of peace, among the selfish sorrow. At least…this was where Sakura belonged; this was where she was meant to be. He could walk to his fate with a clear conscience, knowing that she was safely home at last, surrounded by her loved ones. She would be happy, and that was what mattered.

Finally reassured, Itachi leaned forward slightly, before pressing his lips to hers, softly and lingeringly. It took an effort to pull back, and after one final, regretful glance at Sakura's still form, he disappeared in a swirl of ash.

* * *

_to be continued_

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As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	11. The Truth

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was sweet enough to leave a review. :)_

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_Chapter Eleven: The Truth_

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The first thing that Sakura heard, pricking at the edges of her consciousness and the all-consuming darkness and lethargy that seemed to have fallen over her like a heavy blanket, was the sound of birds. Louder and more insistent than she was accustomed to hearing. But just a few days ago, to her mortification, Kisame had assured her over breakfast that he had taken Samehada out to the back yard of the base and used it to dislodge and demolish the bird nests that filled the branches of the nearby trees, so that they would no longer be disturbed in the early hours of the morning by "that infernal noise."

And then, just as this odd, disjointed thought crossed her mind, even as exhausted as she was, Sakura felt the unmistakable sensation of a breeze on her skin; ruffling through her hair. She frowned, opening her eyes with difficulty, wondering whether Itachi had been struck with the sudden desire to open a window (and strip her of her blankets) during the night, and—

Sakura froze, her previous train of thought disappearing abruptly. She blinked around her surroundings, disoriented, and finally, as Itachi had taught her, she brought her hands close to her chest, forming the hand seal he had told her about, before coupling it with the precise concentration of requisite chakra. "Kai," she murmured under her breath, staring at the rock a few inches from her left foot; at the fallen leaf near her leg. "Genjutsu Kai."

Nothing faded away, though. It was _real. _Sakura felt her fingers digging into the tightly packed dirt underneath her, as she stared up at the sun – slowly making its way above the horizon; it had obviously just started to rise a few minutes ago, without fully seeing it. This forest was real, and her slowly-growing confusion threatened to become all-consuming. Last night…she clearly remembered falling asleep in her own bed, curled up beside Itachi. But now – her gaze snapped downwards sharply. She was fully dressed in her typical outfit, and…alone. She couldn't sense Itachi or Kisame's chakra signatures anywhere in the remote vicinity of this area.

Sakura looked around the still forest again, curling her legs close to her body self-consciously. Regardless of her preoccupation, something about her surroundings drew her attention. For all intents and purposes, there was nothing special about this forest, nothing to distinguish it from the many, many others she had seen while traveling with Itachi and Kisame. Nothing except – Sakura's eyes drifted upwards again…the canopy. The unusually lush, thick, vibrant greenery of the trees that surrounded her.

The memory of the dream returned in a flash; of racing through the tops of trees much like these, learning how to expertly avoid getting hair or feet or sleeves stuck in bunches of leaves or stray branches, and Sakura blinked from the sheer intensity of it. Was this the same place? Still, the thought only occupied her attention for a few seconds, before the first stirrings of panic and renewed confusion at her situation, and her solitude, set in. She struggled to her feet hastily, despite the protests of her hopelessly stiff, cramped muscles, but as soon as she even managed to stand upright, a wave of dizziness swept over her. Sakura staggered back against the tree trunk that she had been leaning against, reaching out to steady herself. On her feet for the first time, she realized that her head was throbbing mercilessly, and her stomach had an empty, hollow ache as well.

That she understood, at least – it was due to the unchecked production of gastric acid; it had been a long time since she had eaten last. Survival instinct took over, and Sakura automatically reached into one of her zippered skirt pockets, finding a bag of dried fruit. She had quickly eaten the majority of it before the realization hit her, and in that instant, she felt the apricot and mango mix turn into lead in her mouth as she reached downwards, seeking confirmation. The bag of fruit hadn't been the only thing in her pocket. Her summoning scroll had also been tucked in there, and she could feel that it was full of her belongings – her medical books, her clothes, even her cosmetics.

And Itachi and Kisame were still nowhere to be found.

Sakura had to take a deep breath to fight off the sense of rising panic, as she leaned back against the tree, closing her eyes. Panic was useless. _Think, _she counseled herself, trying to remain calm, but before she could get very far, her eyes snapped open as she regarded her surroundings warily. She heard voices. Soft but unmistakable, becoming more distinct as they advanced closer. At least three – two males, possibly one female? And they were headed in her direction. She bit her lip thoughtfully, torn between whether to remain where she was or retreat further back into the forest, out of sight. After several moments of internal debate, the pink-haired kunoichi decided that she had nothing to lose by approaching them and asking where she was. It would be the smart thing to do; certainly more intelligent than evading them and then wandering about for hours in search of the nearest town, or another source from which to seek out information. She had no reason to believe that these people would be hostile forces, whoever they were.

Still, Sakura felt more than a little apprehensive as she pushed herself away from the tree, toward the path and closer to the voices. She could glimpse them up ahead, and before she could lose her nerve, she stepped out into the path, several feet in front of the travelers.

They stopped dead the second they caught sight of her, and from the packs they carried, the scrolls and rolls of weapons visibly secured within their clothing, and their unusual attire, Sakura immediately guessed that they were probably a shinobi team. There was a boy with black hair styled into a bowl cut and thick eyebrows, dressed in a skintight green jumpsuit, a pretty girl with a Chinese-style outfit and her hair twined up into two buns on the top of her head, and an older-looking boy wearing traditional robes – and most unusually, his eyes were an unnerving shade of white, appearing to lack pupils at all.

But that wasn't even the strangest thing. As Sakura stared at them – the _second _she stepped into their line of sight – she was alarmed to see that all of them froze as if they had just seen a ghost. The green-clad boy's eyes widened, the color draining from his face, and the girl went chalk-pale as well, her hand flying to her mouth, as if shocked. "Oh, kami," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Even the boy with the white eyes, who looked older and more stoic than the other two, took a step back at the sight of her, visibly startled. For some reason, he flung his arm out, as if to protect his teammates.

Unnerved by their reaction (why were they _looking _at her like that?), Sakura quickly glanced over her shoulder to see if there was something more worrying that had triggered such a display. Faced with nothing but the trees, she turned back, and feeling more than a little bit uneasy, she opened her mouth to politely enquire where she was—

And the words died in her throat before she even started, because the boy in green cut her off, bridging the several feet between them in less than an instant; appearing in front of her with speed tremendous enough to rival Itachi's. The expression on his face was of nothing less than pure joy, and before Sakura could do anything more than stare at him, bemused, he grabbed her by the shoulders, looking her in the eye for a brief, searching instant.

"Sakura-chan!" he cried then, the happiness in his voice tangible, and then – for some reason, even though she had never seen him before – he embraced her tightly, holding her close; clearly overwhelmed by true emotion. "I have longed for this sight for months, and my eyes did not deceive me! It really is you! You were alive after all! Neji! Tenten! This is a miracle!"

Sakura stiffened from head to toe, now disconcerted beyond any measure she had felt before. The apricot-mango mix she had eaten threatened to make a reappearance, and despite the jubilation of the person embracing her – acting like this was some kind of long-awaited reunion – all she felt was confusion. What was going on? Who _was _this? He clearly knew her – but…what had he said about her being _alive? _She tried to extricate herself from the enthusiastic embrace and step back as politely as possible, but it was no use.

Now that she was slowly recovering from the shock, Tenten's eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. Specifically, the expression on Sakura's face – it was still enough to make a shiver go down her spine; she never thought she would ever have an occasion to think _that_ again. The obvious bewilderment; the girl looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Her closed-off body language – and the fact suddenly registered that from the instant she had stepped onto the path as unexpectedly as a ghost, Sakura had shown absolutely no sign of recognition of them, even though they had all gone on missions together before. But it _was _truly Sakura, there was no doubt about that. Her chakra pulsed and was _real, _and her body and chakra were whole in a way that they would never be if she were the victim of some sick corpse re-animation jutsu or something. Then why the strange behavior…?

It clicked then, and a strange tension – a premonition, almost – swept over Tenten, making her muscles stiffen with wariness. Of course. She remembered hearing the rumors; everybody had; that the Cloud shinobi who had killed Sakura had beaten her severely, smashing her head against a rock cliff face until her skull was fractured and she was barely conscious. That had been the only way they could have weakened her enough to stab her so terribly. She had used the last of her chakra before falling unconscious to send the information back to Tsunade-sama, valuing the completion of the mission over her own chance at life. But here Sakura stood, whole. It seemed insane, but could it be possible that whatever head injury she had sustained – unlike the stab wound – hadn't been healed?

In the same instant, as if he had channeled her thoughts, Neji spoke. "Lee," he ordered tersely, voice low and strained. "Let go. Step away."

The boy with the green jumpsuit – Lee, Sakura presumed – did so immediately, looking taken aback by the abrupt, decisive command. She blinked at the three of them, her discomposure growing, and she couldn't help but take a few steps back, halfheartedly toying with the idea of running away from all this…strangeness. As if he had read her mind, Lee looked into her eyes again, his tone softening. This time, she could see the first hints of uncertainty in his face. "Sakura-chan," he asked, "are you feeling all right?"

Sakura shook her head back and forth, unable to face his scrutiny, lifting her hands to her head and not caring that she probably looked like a lunatic. "I don't know," she mumbled, hardly aware of what she was saying. Where were Itachi and Kisame? The question seemed to grow in magnitude within her mind until it became a constant ache, gnawing at her with every breath she took. How had she gotten here in the first place, and how could she find her way back to them? Had something happened to them? She couldn't imagine why Itachi would have just _left_ her here unless it was another misguided attempt at protecting her from something. Most worryingly, it didn't look like she could find a way to leave these three and search for her teammates anytime soon. "I don't know."

She didn't see the glance that Neji, Lee, and Tenten exchanged. Finally, Tenten stepped forward, gently approaching her, hiding how secretly scared she felt at this entire unbelievable situation. Sakura, one of her fellow kunoichi, a friend and teammate, had _died _seven months ago. And now, here she was – but…wrong, somehow. She watched her with a guarded look in her eyes – like she was regarding a stranger – that was so _not _Sakura, and she felt her worry rising. "My name is Tenten," she began, before gesturing to each of her teammates in turn. "This is Lee, and that's Neji. We're chunin from Konoha – well, Lee and I are, at least. Neji's a jounin. We graduated in the year before you; we've done missions together. I…" she trailed off. "I don't know if you remember…"

The weight of all of their gazes on her was too much to bear, and Sakura averted her eyes. "I'm sorry," she managed, really meaning it, feeling her skin flush with heat. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this uncomfortable. "I don't, at all. I'm sorry."

She could literally feel the impact her statement had on them, and she knew it had been the wrong answer – and she hadn't wanted to offend them; they all seemed nice and had apparently been her comrades, after all… But then something that Lee had said earlier came back to her, only now fully registering, and Sakura blinked, turning to face him and regarding him cautiously. "What did you mean by that?" she asked quietly. "About it being a miracle that I was alive? You didn't think that I was…"

She stopped, then, taking in the stricken looks on their faces. It left absolutely no doubt about what they _had _thought, and even though she knew so little – so _frustratingly, _horribly little about the situation evolving around her – it was still enough to make a shiver run down her spine. Wordlessly, Lee and Tenten looked toward Neji, waiting for instruction. As stoic and unexpressive as he seemed (_Itachi, _Sakura thought with a pang), he appeared shaken by this in his own way, just like his teammates. He finally tilted his head to the side, giving another quiet, authoritative command. "Our current mission is officially being placed on hold. We will escort Sakura to Hokage Tower immediately."

The order made her still, as she had a recollection of another one of her dreams, which was as vivid in her mind as it had been the morning after – Hokage Tower. Hokage. Tsunade-shishou, her instructor. She remembered holding the fish and directing her chakra inside it, and the pride in Tsunade's voice as she had praised her for a job well done. She still didn't know much – the fact that Lee and the others had actually believed she was _dead _raised an entirely new set of questions, each more unsettling than the last – but instinct told Sakura that Tsunade-shishou would be the one with all the answers…the answers she had been craving so desperately ever since the brief fragments of her own memory had started reappearing. But Sakura hesitated, throwing a glance over her shoulder. If Itachi and Kisame returned to look for her…

Lee reached out, touching her shoulder lightly, and Sakura's muscles twitched out of surprise. He gave her a reassuring smile. "It is all right, Sakura-chan. There is nothing to worry about."

Tenten smiled too, nodding in agreement, and Sakura had no choice but to walk forward, with Tenten and Lee situated rather protectively on either side of her. Neji led the way, taking them back through the forest. The path ended abruptly, the forest opening out into a large, cleared area, and for the first time, Itachi and Kisame receded from the forefront of her mind, as her attention was dominated by the structure in front of her. The toweringly high walls, prominently emblazoned with a painfully familiar seal at the very center. It was the same symbol, slashed through, that she had seen on Itachi's forehead protector; the same one that she had seen in the book about the world's shinobi villages.

"Konoha," Sakura murmured unconsciously, and she couldn't help it: she stopped dead right as they were making their way in, staring at the symbol. This close, it drew her in with an intensity she hadn't felt, seeing it before in the book, and as if her arm was moving independently of her body, she felt herself reach up and brush her fingers against her own bare forehead. What was raging inside her right now was almost as frightening as the nightmares had been. This place was familiar to her, and more than anything else had, it triggered the feeling that – instead of being in a locked box somewhere far inside the recesses of her brain – her long-lost memories were hovering close to the surface; close to breaking free, yet still just beyond her reach.

"Yeah," Tenten replied softly, patting her on the arm, as she looked up at the village's emblem as well. "Welcome home, Sakura."

Neji set the pace, and Lee and Tenten were patient with her as she made her way slowly through the streets that she felt she had walked before, even when Sakura suddenly and inexplicably came to a complete stop in front of a stone bench near the East Gate, taking it in as if transfixed. Why it was significant, she didn't know, but she had the unshakable feeling that it was. Her gaze restlessly roamed every inch of the streets as she took them in, as if for the first time. The streets were largely empty, as it was so early in the morning, and despite her preoccupation with buildings and street signs and the outdoor ramen shop that she passed, Sakura was still aware that the few people they had run into – the gate-keepers and the team doing a patrol of the walls – had all stared at her as she had come in, the expressions on their faces similar to the ones that Lee, Tenten, and Neji had initially sported. Her unease was only slightly tempered by the fact that there were a hundred other things weighing on her mind, and the fact that Neji's quelling glares made them turn back to their work with remarkable speed.

The rising sun was getting higher in the sky as they turned a corner and approached the building that Sakura had found the most familiar in the book on shinobi villages – the building that had triggered the initial flood of disjointed memories, actually. "Hokage Tower," Lee confirmed.

"You two can take Sakura up to the Hokage's office," Neji decreed, turning and looking east, and Sakura knew instinctively that he was glancing in the direction of Tsunade's home. (_Marble floors, Tonton's food and water dishes underneath the kitchen window, an extensive personal library filled with the most comprehensive medical knowledge in the world)_ "I will go and summon Tsunade-sama."

Lee and Tenten murmured their assent, and Neji vanished in a swirl of leaves. The three of them made their way up the winding staircase heading to the top floor of the tower, and Sakura could feel her stomach knotting up more and more with every step she took. Here more than anywhere else, there was that unbearable feeling of familiarity – but that sense gave her more questions than answers, and all the important details were still out of her reach.

The door to Tsunade's office was unlocked, and they all filed in, taking seats in the spare chairs. They stayed silent, Lee looking worried and Tenten biting her lip, both of them obviously lost in thought, and Sakura found herself compulsively picking at her cuticles in an instinctive response to the head-pounding, crushing stress she felt. The questions that had been eating at her mind since a few minutes after she had regained consciousness kept repeating in an endless loop that threatened to drive her insane. She couldn't even begin to understand why Itachi had placed her here in the first place. Could he and Kisame have felt like they were in some kind of danger – she remembered her brief meeting with the Akatsuki Leader, and the overwhelming sense of foreboding she had experienced then – and frowned. If that was the case, had Itachi left her here in a way to keep her out of the line of fire, so to speak? It seemed nonsensical and irrational…but she couldn't even begin to guess at the alternatives.

The sun continued to creep higher, illuminating the mountain range visible from outside the window, spectacularly carved with likenesses of what Sakura could only assume were previous leaders of Konoha. Tenten stood and headed to the coffee maker in the corner of the room and came back a few minutes later with a fragrant, steaming hot cup of coffee. "Here," she said kindly, holding it out. "This is the best in the whole tower. Shizune, Tsunade-sama's assistant, had it moved from the lounge to the office in hopes that it would help break Tsunade-sama's little habit."

"Thanks," Sakura replied, trying her best to smile as she curled her fingers around the cup and sipped from it. It wasn't the average vanilla flavor that Kisame liked; instead, it tasted like some kind of exotic dessert, and it triggered another flash of déjà vu; a memory of standing in a room down the hall from this one, drinking this after a mission and laughing over something with two people whose faces she couldn't quite remember. Maybe something of her discomfort showed in her face, because Lee – a solid, reassuring presence – placed his hand on hers, patting it soothingly, in a way that only made her think of how Itachi had comforted her when she had sought him out during those terrible nightmares.

Sakura was halfway done with the cup of coffee by the time the door opened again, and instinctively, she, Lee, and Tenten rose in the same instant. The open door revealed the woman, Tsunade, that Sakura had seen in her dream, down to the very last detail – the green jacket, the blonde hair tied into twin ponytails, the dark brown eyes – widened in shock – and even the aura of power and authority that radiated from her. It was stunning. _I'm not crazy, _the voice inside Sakura's head affirmed, _I wasn't ever losing my mind, it wasn't a mental break, it was all _real. Before she could even think about what to say, all the breath left Tsunade's body in a long, visible sigh she stared at her, as if unable to believe her own eyes. For all intents and purposes, Sakura had been _dead _– but here she stood in front of her, beautifully whole and healthy and unharmed, and the sight was enough to make her fear that this was all a dream.

Neji stood behind Tsunade, inclining his head respectfully. "As I said, Hokage-sama," he murmured. "The body and chakra signature are genuine and unmarked."

Tsunade just nodded, looking as if his words had jolted her out of thoughts she couldn't even guess at. She still appeared just as shell-shocked as Sakura felt. "Thank you," she replied, her voice barely audible. "All of you."

Lee squeezed her hand reassuringly, and Tenten gave her a small smile, touching her shoulder, before they joined Neji outside. The door closed behind the small team, leaving the two of them alone, and Sakura looked up at Tsunade. It was undeniable, the wave of genuine, thorough, _real _recognition that swept over her then – so suddenly that it felt like the floor was spinning beneath her feet – and a little part of the locked box of memories fell open.

She remembered Tsunade-shishou's patient, thorough instruction in how to develop her skills with medical chakra. It began with the basics of chakra use and human anatomy, the complete theory, and then at last moved on to practical application on the fish and the animals, before finally beginning real work on other shinobi. She remembered her very first healings (minor external flesh wounds), performed under Tsunade-shishou's supervision; the first surgery she had observed; the first surgery she had assisted with…and then, the first one she had performed on her own, after the first year and a half of her apprenticeship, as her skills as a medic-nin had improved to the point where she could thoroughly and flawlessly correct extensive internal and external trauma on her own.

There were more memories, too; nothing she had recalled earlier. Taijutsu drills that lasted for hours and hours, week after week, month after month, first to drastically build up her stamina, speed, and basic strength. After that, the way Tsunade had shown her over several sessions how to finely control and channel her own chakra, directing precise bursts of it to her hands and feet before impact in order to cause the maximum amount of damage. Sakura remembered that she had nearly collapsed with shock the first time she had punched the old oak tree in the middle of Training Ground Nine with a chakra-laden fist, and with the massive crunch of splitting roots, it had toppled to the ground. Every time before that evening, all she had succeeded in producing were first scraped knuckles, and then medium-sized dents in the bark. Tsunade-shishou had actually laughed at the expression on her face as she had gaped at the fallen tree. _I am proud of you, Sakura._

Her voice was stuck in her throat for several moments, and it took a real effort to force it out coherently, as she bowed deeply. "Tsunade-shishou," Sakura managed respectfully, her voice wavering, despite her best efforts – coming out more like a question seeking confirmation.

"Sakura," Tsunade replied, her voice just a little bit unsteady, before she stepped forward and embraced her, holding on to her tight. Instead of reacting with discomfort, as she had with Lee, Sakura felt all the energy seep out of her. She could do nothing but hold on just as tightly, even as felt her eyes blurring over until she couldn't see anything clearly; her throat tightening so much it was painful. It reminded her of the way she had felt the first time she had woken up after dreaming of…Konoha. The sense that this was painfully, unmistakably _right. _That something inside her mind felt as if she had just come home.

After what felt like a long time, they finally released one another and moved to the desk, sitting down, with Tsunade on the other side of the desk and Sakura in her customary seat (the middle one, not too hard or too squishy). Even this simple act triggered something that made her blink, momentarily thrown. A memory of being in this position many times before, as well as observing it with others: Tsunade-shishou always leaned to the right side in her chair when she was intently focused on something. She leaned to the left side, her hand toying with the handle of one of the drawers to her secret sake stash, when she wasn't interested in whatever was being said and thought that she needed a drink. Right now, Tsunade was leaning to the right, watching her seriously. "You know who I am," she said at last, softly. "Correct?"

Sakura inclined her head, plucking at one of the loose threads on her skirt. "You're Tsunade-shishou, my instructor and the Hokage of Konoha, and you taught me everything I know about medical chakra and chakra-enhanced taijutsu."

She looked up as if awaiting approval, and the expression made Tsunade's chest tighten because of how much she remembered that same look on the younger Sakura's face, when she had just taken her under her wing and was teaching her the basics. Like it had been then, these words were delivered tentatively, as if it had been a recently learned fact – as if Sakura remembered the large picture, but not the fine details, and she made a mental note of that fact. Neji had mentioned that she had failed to recognize his team, as well, and Tsunade indicated Hokage Mountain, gesturing out of the window. "Do you know where you are?"

Sakura glanced over at it, her gaze lingering on the representation of the Fourth Hokage. "This is Konoha," she responded, at last. "…The place where I grew up."

She continued to survey the village thoughtfully, and Tsunade felt her shoulders stiffen a little bit from the tension coursing through her. Again, the uncertainty of Sakura's tone and the nature of her word choice were worrying. While it was too soon to be absolutely sure, her instinct led her to believe that Neji had been right, and Sakura appeared to have some form of trauma-induced amnesia. The Hokage took a deep breath, preparing to speak again, and then she realized that there were too many questions struggling for precedence, the answers of which she was desperate to know. Where had she been for so long? Exactly how severe was the extent of the memory loss? When had her apprentice begun to recall information? How had she found her way to Konoha again, after such a long absence? Who had taken her from the deserted area that the Cloud kunoichi had left her and healed her wounds, and—

Tsunade frowned, distracted. Something about Sakura's exact phrasing when asked if she knew where she was had just occurred to her as being slightly odd. Sakura had said she was in Konoha, _the place where she had grown up. _Not _my home, _which would be an infinitely more characteristic response. It seemed like a trivial consideration, in light of the larger questions weighing on her mind, but something told her to pursue it first, just to be absolutely sure. "Sakura, is that something you were told by somebody, or was it a fact you recalled spontaneously?" she asked, wondering whether it had been a cue that her apprentice had picked up from Team Gai.

The question took her by surprise, and Sakura opened her mouth, ready to reply, before closing it again, unsure of what she would say. She trusted Tsunade-shishou, but…She struggled to sort through her tangled, disarrayed thoughts, her confusion rising higher again as – for the hundredth time – she wondered where Itachi was and what was going on and why she was now being interrogated for purposes unknown, far away from their base and with her teammates nowhere to be found. _Itachi. _The very thought of him made her remember, all too clearly, Itachi and Kisame telling her that she was from Rain and had met them in Rain. And yet, in recent weeks…after the dreams of Konoha had started…she had begun to doubt what they had told her. Sakura became aware that her fingers were knotted together almost painfully tight in her lap, and she shook her head, trying to clear her mind. "It's complicated," she mumbled.

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, regarding her troubled-looking apprentice with narrowed eyes, and for the first time, a strange sense of foreboding made the hair on the back of her arms stand up. "If you could start from the beginning, then, and tell me everything that you remember in as much detail as you can…"

Sakura took a deep breath, tilting her head back and closing her eyes in a brief moment of concentration, trying to make sense of everything and ensure that it sounded as smooth and coherent as possible. "I woke up," she began haltingly, and even though it had been so long ago, with those words, she felt like she was transported back to that very moment; to the terrible sense of blankness and disorientation she felt. "…Every part of my body hurt, but the pain was worst in my head. I was in this small room – like a bedroom, fully furnished…but I knew that I had never seen the room before; that it wasn't _my _room. I didn't know where I was or how I had ended up there, and when I tried to think back, there was just – nothing, a total blank. Even the first time I looked in the mirror, it was like I was looking at a stranger. All I remembered was that my name was Sakura." She fell silent, lapsing into thought again. "They told me that it was like this because I had been injured in a mission."

Tsunade leaned forward in her chair, listening to every word intently. Sakura had been healed, but it didn't look like she had been taken to some sort of village clinic, which was what she had initially assumed. "_Who _told you?"

Belatedly, Sakura remembered the slash through the emblem on Itachi's forehead protector, and the words that she had read in the shinobi history book echoed in her mind. Itachi had belonged to Konoha, and _abandoned it without intention of returning, often because they had committed criminal acts or to pursue other personal gains, _and for the first time, she hesitated before speaking. "They weren't medics, or anything – they were shinobi. …Two of them; missing-nin, I guess." Sakura had to fight the urge to smile as she recalled her first sight of Kisame. She'd thought he was the scariest and most outlandish-looking thing _ever. _"The first thing I noticed about them, before I knew their names or anything, was the strange outfits they were wearing – these black cloaks, covered with lots of little red clouds…"

Tsunade blinked once, the words hitting her like a slap in the face. _No. _But Sakura continued to describe them, detailing their appearances, and the Hokage literally felt all the color begin to drain from her face. At first, her first, foolish thought was that it had to be some sort of mistake, but then Sakura kept talking, and the cold, complete realization of who – exactly _who _– she was referring to was enough to make all the nerves in her body go numb, even as under the table, her hands curled into fists, her fingernails biting painfully into her palms. It took a concerted effort, and more self-control than Tsunade knew she possessed, in order to control the utter shock she felt and keep it from being echoed in her body language.

Sakura tilted her head to the side, finally, and Tsunade forced herself to tune back in; to keep her expression neutral and impassive. "They told me their names were Kisame and Itachi, and that I was their medic; the third member of their team. They said – well, they said that I had met them in Rain – where they were from – and that I had been part of their team for a year. The reason for my memory loss was that I had sustained a serious head injury during a mission." She frowned, scratching her fingernail against the exposed skin of her knee, obviously preoccupied. "I was curious, naturally. At first I didn't believe them, of course, but after an inspection of my possessions, I found that I carried the belongings that a medic-nin would have. When I first took a shower after I woke up, I used my chakra to heal the ache in my head and everywhere else, so after that, I felt that the explanation they had given me was correct. When I asked for more details, they told me that I didn't have any family that they knew of…and that I had learned all my skills from some medic-nin in Rain."

Tsunade remained silent, trying to come to terms with the steadily sinking feeling in her stomach. She remembered, as if the entire nightmarish episode had been yesterday, the Cloud kunoichi's account of her fight with Sakura…including the part where she had slammed Sakura's head into the sheer rock side of a cliff face over and over again. Now it was clear that the traumatic brain injury had been a catalyst for this severe amnesia. And damn it, she felt _sick _with fury and rage and even fear_, _inside and out (in a way she hadn't been since hearing about Sakura's supposed death) at the burgeoning realization that her student had been held captive by none other than Itachi Uchiha and Kisame Hoshigaki. They were undoubtedly the most dangerous, lethal members of the Akatsuki; S-class criminals infamous for the sheer brutality of the acts they had committed over the years. They were major threats to Konoha, and on a more personal level, to Naruto and Sasuke – although, of course, Sakura couldn't remember that. And they had deceived her – taken advantage of her vulnerability in a despicable way, in order to use her for kami knew what—

But why had they saved her? Tsunade's mind filled in the fact that the Cloud kunoichi had left Sakura for dead, bleeding copiously from a critical stab wound and unconscious from being severely battered. Itachi and Kisame had happened upon her apprentice, and for reasons unknown, taken her with them. They had healed the stab wound and they must have reduced the swelling in her head, which had enabled her to regain consciousness in the first place, and prevented any further degree of mental damage.

_No, _Tsunade amended then, _not for reasons unknown. _Sakura's status as her apprentice and an extraordinarily gifted medic-nin, a prodigy in the medical arts, made her well-known across the world; even more so since she had defeated Sasori. It was no secret that the Uchiha's eyesight had deteriorated over the years to the point where he was nearly blind. And the worst thing, the _worst _thing, was that obviously, even now, Sakura didn't _know. _She didn't know the truth about Itachi and Kisame; Tsunade could see that much. Her apprentice was staring at her inquisitively, hands folded in her lap and apparently ready to resume her report. Regardless of the growing horror and lingering shock that she felt, she faintly asked Sakura to continue.

Sakura did, and as she talked, Tsunade looked her over as subtly and intently as she could, focusing on every visible inch of skin, to such minute cues as her posture. She noted that the pink-haired kunoichi appeared in good health and unhurt. There were no signs of malnutrition. There were also no visible external signs of injury or abuse, and despite the fact that she was obviously confused and disoriented to some extent, as well as unsure of herself and her circumstances, Sakura still seemed graceful and composed enough, unlike other shinobi who had weathered extreme torture at the hands of the Akatsuki. Still, the Hokage didn't trust her own rudimentary assessment, knowing what she knew about the Uchiha and his partner—

Tsunade made herself take a deep breath again, trying to compartmentalize her thoughts for the moment. She was a professional. As the leader of the village, she had seen her people injured, killed, captured, tortured, by rival shinobi villages or other enemy factions, and she had to keep her composure and some degree of distance through it all. She had given many of them orders to go on missions to serve the village's interests; missions which had cost them their lives, or which they had paid other terrible prices for. But be that as it may, there was no point deluding herself about this. This was personal, terribly so_. _Shizune and Sakura were like her own daughters. And she wanted to scream at the thought of Sakura being in the grasp of Itachi, of all people – and unaware of it. More importantly, she wanted to stop this conversation now and drag Sakura to an examination room for a thorough physical examination, to see if she was hurt in any way, followed by a rigorous mental exam to make sure that she hadn't been tortured or interrogated. And yet she had to stay still and finish hearing this report, and Tsunade gritted her teeth to keep from interrupting.

"Itachi and Kisame explained to me that we were on a mission to pursue a man named Roshi, because…" Sakura bit her lip, her gaze downcast. "I guess he wanted something that the _Leader _– that was what they called him, anyway – wanted something very badly."

The Four-Tails. Tsunade's breath caught in her throat. A few weeks ago, Jiraiya had brought her the disastrous news that the Akatsuki had succeeded in capturing Roshi and sealing the tailed beast, bringing the organization one step closer to achieving their ultimate goal. Seemingly without any idea that she was disclosing a goldmine worth of long sought-after information, Sakura went on to disclose the location of the Akatsuki base in Cloud where Itachi and Kisame had kept her, and even as she filed it away as valuable information to be disseminated to the hunter-nin as soon as possible, Tsunade still found herself, to some extent, in a state of numb shock as she listened to the tale unfolding.

"A lot of time passed," Sakura continued, sighing quietly. "My mind was like…a blank slate, I suppose, if you could call it that. I studied the books of medical chakra that I had with me until it all came back to me. I eventually remembered taijutsu and how to direct chakra to my feet to walk up trees and run through branches, and once, I even moved chakra to my hand and punched a mercenary back twenty feet until he hit a tree. After some practice, I remembered how to use most of the weapons that I found in my bag." She leaned back in her chair, propping her chin up with her hand, a pensive look on her face. "When it came to personal memories, though, of _life _before, I couldn't recall anything, even though I tried. But over the last month—" She hesitated, a shadow flickering over her face. "Over the last month, I've been having these dreams."

Sakura started to explain before Tsunade could ask her to elaborate. "The first couple of times, I was young, I think. In the very first one, I was with two boys, and someone who I think was my teacher – he was showing us how to move chakra to our feet to run through the trees for the first time. In another one, I was older, with two new teammates or classmates, one girl and one boy, and a different teacher, and he was leading us through a forest – the Forest of Death, he called it – telling us that we were preparing for some kind of exam. Then I dreamed, once, of…" she paused, and smiled for the first time, looking slightly embarrassed. "You, testing me on how to heal a giant koi fish. It was a practical exam of some sort, and it was very important, because it was somebody called Homura's most beloved pet, and he would never let you hear the end of it if it died."

Tsunade actually laughed, surprised by the recollection. In the weeks that had followed the devastating news of Sakura's death, she had spent countless nights sitting alone in this office, getting drunk and reminiscing about the too-short time she had spent with her protégé. It had been miserable, but once in a while, there had been occasion to smile, like when she had remembered the look on Sakura's face after she had asked her to give her a foot massage, using the reasoning that massage was an important skill for all medic-nin to know. She had no idea how she had failed to remember this. "I had nearly forgotten about that! It was almost three years ago. The old prig was less difficult for a month after you saved that fish."

Sakura smiled again and tilted her head to the side, thinking back. "This was the first time I remembered Konoha, and you," she said quietly. "I called you Hokage-sama in my dream, and when I woke up, the title confused me, so I looked it up in a book about the history of the world's shinobi villages. When I went through the book and saw the pictures in it, I realized how – how familiar this place looked to me. This building itself, the hospital, the Academy, even the bird's-eye view of the whole village. I didn't know what to make of it, considering what Itachi and Kisame had told me about my background. But at some point around that time, I realized that the dreams were my own memories coming back. The dreams were so clear; so vividly detailed. So persistent. And the way I felt when I dreamed about my teammates—" Sakura stopped, wrapping her arms around herself. "It was just instinct."

Tsunade inclined her head, fascinated at the implications of what she was hearing, from a medical standpoint. In the existing literature about trauma-related memory loss, she had never heard about the manifestation of old memories through dreams – most often, it was stimuli encountered during the waking hours, reminiscent of significant things from the past, that triggered the gradual return of memory.

Sakura took a deep breath and another sip of now-cold coffee, and she started to twist her fingers together in her lap again. "But eventually the dreams changed and became…more like nightmares." She detailed them, slowly and haltingly, until it became all too clear to Tsunade that the nightmares that had caused her so much distress were the memories of battling Sasori alongside Chiyo, coming across Gaara's unconscious body after he had been captured by Deidara and Sasori, and the incident during Sakura's first chunin exams, where she, Naruto, and Sasuke had been confronted by Orochimaru, respectively.

Sakura trailed off then, visibly disturbed, tucking her hands between her knees so that Tsunade wouldn't see them tremble. Tsunade stayed silent for a few minutes, trying to piece all of it together in her head. It was extremely disconcerting, to say the least, and at last, she spoke, wondering how everything had ended up with Sakura back here; free from Itachi and Kisame. The other memories that Sakura had recovered were disjointed ones of the early days of Team Seven, with Naruto, Sasuke, and Kakashi, and then snapshots of her time as part of Team Ten, with Ino, Chouji, and Asuma, following the first chunin exams. From Sakura's explanation, it seemed evident that she was slowly regaining her memories of her life before the injury. Had Itachi and Kisame been aware of that? But then, returning her to Konoha seemed like a completely uncharacteristic act of mercy. Or had her apprentice run away after figuring out that they had lied to her? "What happened then?" she prompted gently.

Sakura glanced up, appearing somewhat shaken. "I don't know," she murmured. "I fell asleep last night in my bedroom in the base. When I woke up…I was here."

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, momentarily stunned. She hadn't run away, then. For all intents and purposes, her captors seemed to have returned her to Konoha. To say that this didn't make sense was an understatement. Yet, she didn't know enough to make a judgment – Sakura hadn't gone into much detail about how Itachi and Kisame had treated her, save for stating that they were kind and treated her like a member of their team, and that she had fit in with them well. She hadn't mentioned anything about any healing she had performed for them – but then again, Tsunade was all too aware that Itachi could have used his bloodline limit to tamper with her memories even further. Could it be that he had used her until he had no medical need any longer, and then…

Tsunade closed her eyes, deep in thought. An image of the Uchiha's photograph from his file lingered on her mind – the hooded, impassive eyes; the handsome, remote, detached face. At first glance, nobody could guess that was the face of the most depraved criminal in the history of the village. She was familiar with the account of how he had tortured his own younger brother after the massacre. Some of the psychiatrists called him a psychopath; others a sadist; still others criminally insane. And yet, he had spared Sakura's life?

"Tsunade-shishou."

Sakura's quiet words broke Tsunade out of her reverie, and she looked up to see her apprentice looking at her with a quiet sort of desperation. Her shell of calm composure seemed cracked, and she took a deep breath, obviously trying to keep her voice steady. "Please. I – you're the only one who can help me. I've been so confused since I started having these dreams – there's this sense that there are people here that I _know, _like you and Ino and some of the other teammates and teachers that I remember. There are several things that Itachi and Kisame told me that don't line up with what parts of my memory that I do have – and now, both of them have just _disappeared, _and I have no idea—" She stopped, taking another deep breath. "When Lee, Tenten, and Neji first saw me, it was like they had seen a ghost," she continued, a little shakily. "The gatekeepers, as well. Lee mentioned something along the lines that it was a miracle that I was _alive, _and when I asked what he meant by that, he looked like I had just hit him. What's going on, Tsunade-shishou?"

Tsunade pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a migraine coming on. "Humor me, Sakura," she said heavily. "What exactly do you remember, besides the village itself, and the instances that you detailed earlier?"

"People," Sakura responded impatiently. "That's all. A blonde boy who always wore an orange jumpsuit. A dark-haired boy with a blue shirt. An older man who wore a mask over the lower half of his face, for some reason. Ino, the girl with blue eyes who always called me _Forehead Girl, _and our teammate, who wore a full coat of body armor even in the heat and always had a bag of potato chips with him. Another teacher who smoked. A pretty young woman who wore a gray dress and often carried around a small pink pig. You." She sighed, frustrated by her own mind. "That's why…it's been so long. I have to know the truth. I can't _stand _it anymore; the feeling of everything in my mind being like a puzzle with too many important pieces missing."

Tsunade watched her, an unreadable expression on her face, before finally inclining her head. She pulled open one of her drawers and began rifling through the paperwork within, before finally withdrawing a thick manila folder and sliding it across the desk. "Read this."

Sakura opened the file tentatively, feeling her heartbeat beginning to race. She knew, instinctively, that this was the document that had the answers to all of her questions.

The cover fell open, and Sakura found herself confronted with a file on…herself. Her fingers tensed, going still, as she scanned the page. All the text was in small, slightly uneven black ink, clearly done on a typewriter. There was even a picture of her at the top of the page – she was dressed in the clothes that she was wearing now, her hair a few inches shorter. She sat up straight, smiling proudly at the camera, and Sakura's gaze was drawn like a magnet to the forehead protector – so like Itachi's, except without the slash – covering her forehead, clearly stating her allegiances. The sight felt like a punch to the stomach.

"That was taken the day after you passed your chunin exams," Tsunade told her, her voice barely audible. "Flying colors. You won your third-round combat match in a record five seconds."

Her mouth very dry, Sakura went on to scan the information directly beneath her photograph. _Vital stats. _There was her name. _Sakura Haruno. _Her birthday – the twenty-eighth of March (it had come and gone this year without her even being aware of it, she realized numbly; maybe that had been a few weeks after she and Itachi had become romantically involved). She was _seventeen. _She'd had no idea. Blood type: O, the universal donor. Classification: Medical-nin, chunin, A-rank. Village affiliation: Konoha. Birthplace: Konoha General Hospital. And then, a sentence that made her stomach turn. _Parents. _Satoshi and Sayuri Haruno (civilian). She stared at the words until they blurred before her eyes, feeling herself going even number. She had thought her parents were _dead. _She couldn't remember even a bare trace of their faces or voices, and the whole time; that entire time…they were alive, and here, and missing her…

She forced herself to move on, but the lines after that were even more mystifying. _Team: _Kakashi Hatake, Naruto Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha (defected).

_Uchiha. _Her lips parted, and Sakura was vaguely aware of a small, strangled-sounding noise coming from her own throat. Uchiha. Sasuke Uchiha. That eight-year-old boy from the aged photograph on Itachi's bed, with his mother's hands on his shoulders as he smiled innocently into the camera. She had been on a team with Itachi's younger brother?

Sakura began to read even faster, wondering what other revelations the file would hold. The next team she was listed on was with Asuma Sarutobi, Ino Yamanaka, and Chouji Akimichi. In an entry dated more recently, it stated that she was now officially the apprentice of the Godaime Hokage. Toward the very end of the page, there was the date that she graduated from the Academy and became a genin, and then the date that she was promoted to chunin, two years later, and then—

The line after that – small text, cold, heartless black typeface – made all the breath leave her body in a stunned exhalation, and she stared at the page disbelievingly.

_Current status: Missing in action, presumed dead._

It went on to say that the status was imposed after the subject's last A-ranked undercover reconnaissance mission to Cloud. Leaning closer, Sakura could see that the mission was dated to begin in early November, when she first left Konoha, and…she felt a shiver run through her spine as she saw that the mission had never ended. There was no return date – the _subject _– her – had never returned to Konoha. The MIA status was put in place on the eighteenth of November.

Sakura leaned forward, placing her head in her hands, reeling with shock. The eighteenth of November. She couldn't help but think back to the very day when she regained consciousness in the base with Itachi and Kisame. She had walked downstairs to talk to Itachi because Kisame had assured her that he would fill her in on what had happened, and she had thrown a passing glance at the calendar in the kitchen as she had been waiting for Itachi to finish cooking breakfast. It was the twenty-first of November. She had found it notable because there was a particularly ugly kitten photograph chosen to demarcate the month of November. Just a little while later, Itachi had mentioned that she had been unconscious for a few days after the injury…a few days, as in perhaps three days…

The full implications of what she had just discovered hit her like a physical blow, and Sakura could hear her pulse pounding in her ears. "Oh, my god," she whispered, aghast, as she stared at her file – at the unarguable, incontrovertible proof that she had in her hands. The degree of shock that she felt now – more than she could remember ever feeling in her life – was complete; total; all-encompassing. She said it again, vaguely aware that her hands were shaking. She dropped the files as if they had burned her, but it was no use, the rest of her body was trembling now too, and she was powerless to stop it. _How could this be? How had this happened? What did this _mean?

She felt Tsunade's concerned gaze on her, and finally, Sakura lifted her head, looking her shishou in the eye. "I – I – Have I ever been to Rain before?"

Tsunade shook her head slowly. "Never. The longest you've been out of Konoha was a three-week mission in the Land of Waves as a genin, and another three week mission with Team Ten in Rock two years later."

That was all she needed to hear. Sakura closed her eyes, nauseated, and all that ran through her mind, in an insane, endless loop, was that Itachi and Kisame had lied. They had both lied to her, about everything, from the very beginning. She had never met them in Rain. She had never been their teammate for a year. The first time she remembered meeting them was the first time she had ever met them, period, despite how they had pretended otherwise. Her head was spinning. It kept going through her mind, and – where were they now? What happened? Why, why, _why_? And what was all this about a mission? She had hoped that looking at her file would bring all her memories back in a giant wave, but it had done nothing but make her even more confused and upset.

"They told me I was hurt," Sakura managed hoarsely. "And that was how I lost my memories. But they said that it happened on a mission with them." She remembered, with clarity, her first conversation with Itachi. How he had told her that he was sorry, and that he should have looked out for her better.

Tsunade shook her head, looking serious. "It was a recon mission to Cloud – that I assigned you to." Her voice caught a little. "You were supposed to retrieve a file of top-secret, sensitive information, and return it to Konoha. You succeeded in doing so, but before you could leave the village, you became embroiled in an engagement with a team of Cloud shinobi who caught you in the act of retrieving the information. During the fight, you were critically injured, but you managed to send the paperwork to Konoha with a transportation jutsu before you lost consciousness."

Sakura listened, mesmerized, and Tsunade coughed slightly. "I walked in to my office the next morning and saw the information. I began to suspect that you had been injured after I saw that the letters had been smeared with blood, and there was no follow-up note saying that you were healing yourself and would be returning to Konoha later. I sent a team out to search for you, and they found a Cloud kunoichi – one of the team that you had fought – who claimed responsibility for your…death – who had caused the head wound and stabbed you in the ribs."

Sakura swallowed over her suddenly dry throat. Tsunade rubbed her temples, staring at her desk with a fixed expression on her face. Even though her apprentice was right here in front of her, seemingly alive and well, this still brought back terrible memories. "I ordered the team to look for…the body, to bring you back, but you were nowhere to be found. We searched everywhere."

"Itachi and Kisame must have taken me by then," Sakura completed numbly. She pressed her hand against her aching chest, feeling how tight and clenched it was. It was hard to even think right now. It was ironic, but all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and forget. "But why would they – why would they take me – a girl that they didn't even know – and heal me, and then lie to me like that? I…" she felt her throat tighten and threaten to close over, and she shook her head, blinking hard. A huge part of her wanted to deny this; wanted to maintain that it all couldn't be true, that Itachi and Kisame wouldn't be capable of this, but as she had said to Tsunade-shishou, the file…it was _proof, _tangible, unarguable proof. "I trusted them!" she burst out, feeling the traitorous tears burn at her eyes. Anger, betrayal, pain, sorrow, confusion – it was too much, eating her up from the inside out. "How _could _they? _Why_?"

Tsunade opened her mouth as if she was going to say something and then closed it. There was a rare emotion flickering within her: fear, intermingled with dread at what was to come. Maybe it had been foolish of her; a sentimental desire to protect, but she hadn't wanted to tell Sakura. However, there was no way around it. "…What I'm about to tell you," she said finally, heavily, her gaze focusing on her apprentice's, which glittered with anger, "may be very disturbing."

It took an effort for Sakura to keep herself from laughing bitterly. She couldn't be any more disturbed or shocked than she had been in the past half hour. She was still reeling from what she had learned. This was her lifelong home; she was a loyal kunoichi of Konoha. She had teammates. _Parents. _Her entire life for the past seven months; everything that she had believed in, had been a grotesque lie. The two people she had trusted most (and _loved; _the thought of Itachi was like the stab to the ribs she had apparently experienced during the mission) had been the ones who had done this to her, for unknown reasons. What else had Itachi and Kisame lied about? Hell, _could _there be anything left for them to lie to her about? She doubted it.

But still, part of her was afraid to hear the rest. "Wait," she blurted, surprising herself. "I know. Or – I think I know, at least."

Tsunade's eyebrows shot up. "Yes?"

"Toward the end," Sakura began, trying to make sense of her thoughts. "I figured out that Itachi and Kisame were part of the Akatsuki, and…" she hesitated. "…Though the two of them were never unkind to me in any way, I still realized that the Akatsuki was an enemy, after my nightmares. I noticed the slash across the symbol on Itachi's forehead protector as well, and I read that that marked a shinobi as a missing-nin…a person who abandoned their village after committing a crime. Was that the case?" she asked timidly, and even knowing what she knew now, Sakura thought back a little desperately. Had Itachi left her here after realizing that she was recovering her memory and didn't want to keep lying to her anymore, but then couldn't stay because of the threat of facing retribution for whatever crime he had committed, or for deserting Konoha in the first place? It was a wild little thread of hope, but she found herself clinging to it pathetically.

Tsunade remained silent, looking sober. Finally, she rose, walked to the other file cabinet in the corner of the room, and pulled it open, rifling through files. She pulled out two, and Sakura could see that Itachi's name was marked on the first. Her heart rate sped up a little as she saw how thick it was, and she found herself feeling even more apprehensive than she had before looking at her own file for the first time.

Tsunade handed her Itachi's file wordlessly, and without giving herself any more time to be nervous, Sakura cracked it open with cold, clammy hands, and began to read.

At first the words didn't make sense. They blurred together, like they had in the more disturbing parts of her own, but Sakura forced herself to comprehend them; to read them over and over again until they actually had meaning, and – and she felt sicker with every word that she read.

The file was laid out like hers, in many ways. First, there was a photo of Itachi, younger, but every bit as handsome and impassive. And then the status, prominently emblazoned underneath; the one that had made her entire body tense with disbelief at first glance, because surely, it had to be a mistake. _Missing-nin; S-class criminal. Top of Konoha's most wanted list – wanted dead or alive. _It only got worse (more nightmare-inducing and _false_) from there. _Classification: Likely a psychopath. Extremely dangerous. Engage with extreme caution. Engagement should not be attempted if under rank of Special Jounin. _

The words were _unreal, _and Sakura's gaze snapped back to the photograph to confirm that it was talking about – the same _Itachi. _Extremely dangerous psychopath? Wanted dead or alive? There was such a huge disconnect – to say the least – between what was before her eyes and the Itachi that she knew, and she stared unseeingly at the file for several more seconds before dropping it back to the table and looking up at Tsunade sharply. "No," she said, flatly; disbelievingly. "No. This can't be true." _But it was clearly the same Itachi, _a subdued-sounding voice spoke up, from the recesses of her mind. The stats underneath the photograph confirmed that much. Age, date of birth, height, weight, blood type, chakra type… Her skin crawled, and she stared at Tsunade uneasily. "Why…?"

"Keep reading," Tsunade ordered grimly.

Even though every fiber in her body was screaming against it, and the sense of foreboding she felt was unbearable, Sakura was unable to refuse. She lowered her head obediently, resuming her perusal, her heart threatening to jump out of her throat at the slightest provocation. There was, first, a brief header regarding Itachi's family. It named him as the oldest son of Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha, and therefore a member of the Uchiha clan. Considering his father's position as clan head, Itachi was the heir apparent to the powerful clan, and Sakura read it over again, astonished. He had never mentioned that to her. Aside from that, the notes at the very beginning stated that Itachi was undoubtedly a prodigy, even among the immensely powerful Uchiha clan, and the most talented shinobi of his entire generation. His proficiency in ninjutsu, taijutsu, and genjutsu were noted as unparalleled. He had awakened the Sharingan, the bloodline limit of the Uchiha clan, at the youngest age on record, and completely mastered it just as quickly. Again, similarly to her file, following that were the dates of his graduation from the Academy, the date he was promoted to chunin, then another promotion to jounin, then an induction into ANBU, and then a further rise in the ranks to ANBU Captain—

_Wait. _Sakura froze, rereading the dates again, cross-referencing them with the year of Itachi's birth. Her first instinct was to say that it had to be another mistake, but upon second thought, something told her that this was not the case.

She had been a genin at the age of thirteen. When he had been thirteen, Itachi had already achieved the status of ANBU Captain. At an age where she had still been in the Academy, Itachi had risen through the ranks from chunin to jounin. She blinked, startled, and then thought back to all the times they had trained together or she had watched him work on his own or with Kisame, in the base. She had always marveled at his extraordinary skill. This confirmed just what an amazingly proficient shinobi he was. _Then why desert Konoha_? The voice inside her asked furiously. _He had everything. He was the heir to a powerful clan and apparently one of the best shinobi in the village. _

Itachi had been made an ANBU Captain on the fifth of April, eight years ago. That was the last entry before several lines were skipped on the page, and Sakura followed along to the next date entry. The twelfth of October, eight years ago.

She briefly scanned the lengthy paragraph, and that was all it took: the file dropped from her numb hands onto the desk, scattering papers everywhere.

_What? No. No way. It couldn't be. It just _couldn't _be right._

Sakura leaned closer, forcing herself to read it again. Looking for the mistake; the error in typing. Her heart was beating way too fast and her fingernails dug into her palms so hard they felt like they were close to drawing blood. October twelfth, eight years ago. Stray words and phrases that couldn't connect, in her head, jumped out at her. _Subject murders entire clan, thirty-five people, in one night, in cold blood. Weapon used: ANBU katana. Motivation for crime unclear; attack happened seemingly without provocation. Unclear at time of this writing whether premeditated. Victims' cause of death: Throats slit. Male clan elders and subject's parents stabbed once, cleanly through heart. Children between five to ten years of age as well as the elderly (with the addition of one thirteen-year-old female cousin) killed with the use of heart-stopping ninjutsu. Children under the age of five years suffocated where they slept. _As if that wasn't enough, there was an addendum. _Detailed autopsies available in later pages. _

…And then another, after this. _Shisui Uchiha _– Sakura recognized the name, and her blood ran even colder with renewed horror. His date of death was two months before October twelfth. _Officially entered in village records as suicide, but within the clan, the subject is the leading suspect in the death of this individual. Motive for killing is clear – death of Shisui awakens next level of Sharingan; Mangekyou Sharingan; several times more powerful and lethal. It is noted that during the Uchiha massacre on the twelfth of October, the subject displayed this evolved form of the Sharingan, making it clear that he did indeed murder Shisui and forge cousin's suicide note._

_Oh, god. _It was too much to bear. Sakura felt herself splintering from the inside out, and though she longed to look away; to push these horrible documents away from her and scourge her mind of everything she had just read, she still couldn't tear her eyes away from the words on the page. They were saying that Itachi had murdered his entire family in cold blood, except for…

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the name – the painfully familiar name. His whole family, with the exception of his younger brother, who had been five years old at the time. Sasuke Uchiha. The boy from the photograph; the boy listed in her file as her old teammate, and finally, after so long, Sakura was able to put a face to the flash of blue in her dreams. Sasuke _Uchiha. _So that's why, after she had first regained consciousness, she'd had that firm, unshakable sense that that last name had been so familiar and significant to her. At the time, she thought it was because she remembered Itachi. But now…

Sakura kept reading, a leaden feeling in her stomach. The information didn't get any better. It said that after a brief altercation with Sasuke in which the boy had been mentally tortured (and she remembered, _painfully, _the occasions when Itachi would talk to her about Sasuke; the love and tenderness in his voice had been tangible), and after this incident, Itachi had abandoned the village. She skimmed the sentences, after that, too traumatized to take in any more detail. Konoha could never find a reason why he did it. There was a cold-blooded, methodical quality to the executions. As it stated earlier, Itachi was wanted by Konoha, dead or alive, but no hunter-nin or ANBU team had ever come even close to capturing him. When they tried, he inevitably and effortlessly outmaneuvered them, tortured them with his bloodline limit, and then vanished. After the murder of his family, Itachi joined the Akatsuki, the world's most infamous terrorist organization – Sakura shuddered – and from there, he was partnered with Kisame, an equally ruthless missing-nin from Mist. An additional footnote beneath this entry went on to say that the Akatsuki's primary goal was to dismantle the structure of the world as they know it and then gain control of every shinobi nation using the tailed beasts as their weapons. _At the time of this writing,_ _the Akatsuki is at war with Konoha and the other shinobi nations and is their sworn enemy._

Sakura read it over and over again, vaguely aware that her hands were shaking badly. Despite the repetition and the frequent, affirming glances at Itachi's name and photograph at the top of the page, she couldn't – damn it, she couldn't _believe _what she was reading, and she felt sick beyond belief. Her mind kept clinging on to the same statement, that it wasn't right, that it _couldn't _be right, because there was such a huge disconnect between her kind, caring, gentle, almost-shy, reserved Itachi – the Itachi who took the time to warm up her blankets with his own chakra whenever their travels brought them outside the base at nighttime, before they had even become comfortable enough to speak more than five consecutive sentences to one another. The Itachi who gave the entire contents of whatever money was in his pockets to the beggar children in that border town they had passed through in late December; who talked so tenderly about his family; who sometimes radiated a subtly disapproving aura when Kisame got carried away with his obvious glee about the more brutal parts of the shinobi lifestyle…and who treated _her _so lovingly.

That was her Itachi, and how could he be the same Itachi – the ruthless, cruel killer – that stared up at her from the photograph on the file? The one who had slit the throats of his parents and grandparents, his cousins and aunts and uncles, who had suffocated babies and killed the elderly?

The shock was too great, rising up in her throat and threatening to choke her, and Sakura shook her head blankly. "No…" she mumbled to herself, utterly blind to Tsunade's worried expression. "I can't…this isn't Itachi…"

But then, for the first time, it happened during the day. Sakura doubled over, raking her fingers through her hair as she remembered the boy with the dark blue shirt – with hair and eyes so like Itachi's – Sasuke – talking to her and Naruto (_Naruto, _the boy in the orange jumpsuit), telling them, his voice dark with purpose, that he would avenge the loss of his clan by killing their murderer. She remembered Kisame mentioning that he and Itachi had been working together for over five years – which lined up with the information in the file. And worst of all, she remembered the way Itachi had always sounded whenever he talked about his parents, Shisui, and Sasuke. The way his voice had always been tinged with deep sorrow. Often, he had told her that he missed them, but never offered much detail when she asked him why she had chosen to leave in the first place – he said that it was his duty to support them now, and left it at that. And how he had always seemed so oddly, subtly hesitant – replying only after a heartbeat of silence – when she had mentioned looking forward to visiting his family in Rain…

Vaguely, she became aware that Tsunade-shishou was saying her name, clearly concerned. Sakura forced herself to meet her shishou's eyes. "He told me they were alive," she managed, unable to help how remote and far away she sounded. Coldly, almost clinically, she realized that she had reached a state of emotional and physiological distress now that surpassed her state even after immediately regaining consciousness after her injury so long ago. She swallowed over her dry throat, unable to stop talking, for some reason, as if this would negate everything that she had just read; as if Tsunade-shishou would suddenly realize that all of this was just a horrible – _horrible _– mistake. "He said he loved them. He talked about Sasuke, in particular. He said I could visit them sometime and they would love me too."

Sakura looked up at her, anguished and obviously wanting her to say something, anything, to prevent her from having to believe what she had just read. It was heartbreaking – in all the years that she had known her, Tsunade could never remember Sakura looking as utterly devastated as she did now – and it threatened to make her lose her composure as well. The knowledge of what her apprentice was going through…The Hokage took a deep breath, attempting to keep her emotions under a tight rein. "There are pictures," she said, at last. "I warn you that they are gruesome, but I will show them to you if you believe that it will help you process that this is all true. There are also transcripts of the young Sasuke's testimony after the massacre." She paused, letting it all sink in. "Sakura…I assure you that there are no doubts whatsoever that Itachi was the perpetrator. He and Sasuke are the sole surviving members of the Uchiha clan."

Sakura shook her head, her eyes filling with tears as she bit her lip hard. The implications of what Tsunade had just informed her of were – damn it, they were _killing _her. Itachi was an enemy of Konoha – the worst kind of criminal; a serial killer; a murderer of his own _family. _He was the most wanted criminal out there, and for so long…she had been unwitting, unaware. She had _known, _once, too! She had known Sasuke; he had been a part of her team; she had known his history! She'd sat there on that day and heard him talk about it; she had known the sick, tragic story of what had happened to his family, and that the perpetrator was none other than his own older brother! Not only that, but…she recalled her assistance with Roshi's capture, and her stomach turned. She had been standing _right there. _She had aided and abetted the…_the world's most infamous terrorist organization _in their attempt to destroy the world as they all knew it.

And before that. Sakura froze at the very thought; the memory of healing Itachi from that illness that had come so close to killing him. She had fought so hard, so very hard, to save a murderer; to save a man who had killed his own parents and almost every other member of his family and kami knew how many others. Aiding and abetting, again. Then the other memories resurfaced – last night, oh, _god, _last night – causing another wave of nausea. Last night. So many other times. She had let him touch her. She had literally been sleeping with the enemy. With a man who…had done all this… She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe steadily in through her nose in order to avoid throwing up all over Tsunade-shishou's desk.

Tsunade stared at Sakura's utterly shaken, deathly pale countenance, feeling strangely bothered by something she couldn't put a finger on. Not the obvious, of course – but something else, and she recalled something Sakura had mentioned earlier…what Itachi had told her about his family, and she frowned slightly. He had talked to her – on a regular basis, from the sound of things. And from the vehemence of her reaction, and from the readiness to which Sakura jumped to his defense, it would appear that he had led her to trust him over the course of her captivity. That they had been close.

The nature of the thoughts that were beginning to emerge in her head were disconcerting, to say the least, and Tsunade gripped the arms of her chair so hard she felt her fingers lose feeling. It couldn't be. It was completely out of character, considering everything that they knew about the Uchiha. Tactics involving completely incognito female hunter-nin posing as civilians, ones that had succeeded in reeling in countless other dangerous rogue shinobi, had absolutely no impact on Itachi over the years. All of their kunoichi – in the rare instance that they located him in the first place – reported that he had displayed absolutely no interest and succeeded in removing himself from the situation mere minutes after initial contact was made. Entanglements with females simply did not fit in with what they knew about him – but Tsunade kept looking at Sakura; at the way she was now staring at the floor, obviously fighting to keep her composure.

She dreaded the answer already, but she made herself speak up. "Sakura," Tsunade said softly, gently, in as much of a non-threatening manner as possible. "What was the exact nature of the relationship between you and Itachi?"

Sakura went very still, as if the words had been a slap to the face, but when she finally looked up, the anguished expression on her face gave Tsunade all the answer she needed. The Hokage was to a large degree unprepared for the intensity of the revulsion and fury she had to fight – she had always been disturbed by the accounts she had heard of the Uchiha massacre – having not been in Konoha at the time – but never before had her rage at the Uchiha been so visceral and all-consuming that she wanted to lock her fingers around Itachi's throat and choke him to death. _How dare he? _she thought, incensed. The man who had slaughtered his entire family had reached a new low. How dare he take advantage of a girl who had been so…vulnerable? He must have known who she was; that she was Sasuke's former teammate, at that. Maybe that had been what pushed him to do it…or something that made it an even more tempting prospect. In any case, Tsunade found herself wishing – wishing _hard _– that the younger Uchiha would soon follow through on the promise he had made when leaving Konoha: to kill his older brother.

It was a struggle, but Tsunade compelled herself to relax, harnessing her anger as she considered where to go from here in this delicate situation. It made her feel guilty, but one of the next thoughts that crossed her mind was that Sakura, as she was suffering from amnesia, couldn't disclose any sensitive information about Naruto or Konoha to Itachi, regardless of whatever coercion he had used on her. They were safe on that front, at least. She also remembered from what other cases she had seen of amnesia caused by traumatic brain injury that, often, total recall did not happen spontaneously. It happened on occasion if triggered by some sort of extraordinary stimulus, but Sakura was at home in Konoha already. While she knew what was familiar to her and had recalled the "big picture," in a manner of speaking, the details were still locked away, and they had to be brought out as soon as possible.

She explained this to Sakura, who seemed somewhat faint with relief at the departure from the previous subject, and Tsunade grimly made a mental note to address that issue as soon as possible. "The jutsu used by the Yamanaka clan are very well suited for this type of work," she elaborated. "In the other cases of amnesia that we have seen, the memory loss can be quickly and completely corrected after brief exposure to a select few of their techniques. I will also inform Shizune of your return immediately, because we will need to perform a thorough physical and mental exam on you as well."

_Yamanaka. _"Ino," Sakura mumbled, feeling her spirits rise fractionally – as much as they could, under the circumstances.

Tsunade gave her a wan smile, thinking back to the days when the two girls had been her apprentices together. She and Asuma had often commiserated about Ino and Sakura's…unique…dynamic. And yet, Shizune had spent two hours comforting the sobbing girl after she had learned of her best friend's death. She could only imagine Ino's reaction upon hearing this news – it would have to be broken to her gently. "Not Ino," she corrected. "Inoichi, Ino's father, the head of the Yamanaka clan. He works in the Interrogations Department under Ibiki Morino, and he is very skilled at doing this. As a matter of fact, he's performed the three past rehabilitation sessions for shinobi with injuries like yours."

Instead of being reassured, as Tsunade had expected, a look very close to panic registered on Sakura's face as she sat up straight, leaning forward. "No," she protested, the words running into each other in their rush to come out. "I don't – I don't want him to know." She shuddered, imagining the reactions of other Konoha shinobi if the truth of who she had been associating with and what she was doing over this absence came out. "I don't want _anybody _to know, except for you and Shizune."

Tsunade exhaled slowly, considering her apprentice's words. "It's understandable," she murmured. "I believe that Inoichi can target specifically the memories leading up to and before the mission where you were injured – but even if he does end up finding out the truth, he is a highly discreet shinobi and one of my most trusted people, and I assure you that he would never, ever breathe a word to anybody."

Sakura thought about it for several moments, before nodding a little warily. Tsunade watched her, her heart aching for the undeserved shame that her student was carrying inside. "What do you plan to do, then?" she asked. "If you don't want anybody to know the truth?"

Sakura sighed, looking overwhelmed. "So…everybody really thinks that I'm dead?" she inquired timidly.

Tsunade closed her eyes briefly as she nodded. She couldn't help but think back to the memorial service, held without the body. It had been raining hard, but most of Konoha's shinobi had turned out for the ceremony. Sakura had been well-known, of course, having treated almost all active-duty forces at some time or another, and well-liked due to her compassion and personable manner. The atmosphere had been heavy with the shock and sorrow that people felt, at the sudden, unexpected senselessness of it – at the sheer tragedy of the sense that somebody with such raw talent and promise had been taken so young.

And Naruto…she winced to remember it, even now. Naruto had broken down completely. Until the memorial itself, he simply refused to believe that Sakura was gone. He had been convinced that they had all underestimated her and given too much weight to the Cloud kunoichi's account. He was absolutely sure that Sakura would return eventually, and had taken up the habit of patrolling the walls of Konoha himself, searching for any sign of her approaching chakra. _Total denial _had been an understatement. As the days drew on and there was still no sign of her, it had taken the combined efforts of Jiraiya, Kakashi, and her own, to keep Naruto from running off to Cloud to search for her; he was so certain that she was slowly recuperating in some backwoods rural clinic and needed help getting home on her own. It was only on the day of the memorial, after hearing Tsunade make her statement and seeing the tears of the other people that Sakura was close to, that the reality sunk in at last. Naruto broke down completely, faced with the knowledge that he had lost his sole remaining teammate. First Sasuke had been lost, and then Sakura. It had been too much for him to bear.

Tsunade cleared her throat, blinking a few times to dispel the moisture from her eyes. "This could be a conceivable story," she spoke, thinking back to the other cases of amnesia that she had seen in the past, before she had taken up the position of Hokage and while she had been traveling the world. "I have seen it happen myself. Say that after the injury, you woke up in a rural clinic in Cloud with no idea where you were and remembering anything about yourself besides your name. The attending medics told you that a passing traveler had happened upon your unconscious body, found that you were still breathing, and then carried you to the clinic – where these civilian medics healed you. They had no idea where you came from, of course…"

Sakura sat up a little straighter, looking more hopeful. "And since I couldn't remember myself, I stayed on and worked as a medic there for a while, once I discovered that medical chakra was one of the few things I remembered how to do."

"Exactly. As time passed, you traveled from small town to small town, offering your services as a medic in hopes of eventually coming across your home."

"But eventually, after I started having dreams of Konoha, I described the place to people in the towns that I passed through. Somebody finally put a name to the place and I found directions back to the Land of Fire, and then to the area of the village…and I wandered over here in search of answers?"

Tsunade nodded approvingly. "Perfect. It has often happened in cases where somebody is injured and suffers amnesia far from their home."

Sakura exhaled slowly, relieved. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "I'll tell that to anybody who asks, then."

Tsunade gave her a small smile. "Konoha has seen some cases of amnesia, but none like this – in all the other cases, it happened when the operative was on a team mission, so their teammates were able to bring them back to the village immediately for rehabilitation. It will be a shock having you back, of course, but it will be a happy one. I can attest to that personally."

Sakura's answering smile faltered; she bit her lower lip, looking disturbed, Tsunade could see that she was struggling with herself. "How could this happen?" she asked at last, quietly, obviously ashamed. "But I…I didn't know. I had no idea. Itachi never seemed like a violent person at all – not like a sociopath or psychopath or sadist or whatever's written in there. He never even _looked _at me wrong. He never hurt me in any way. I…I can't even…How could I not…?"

Tsunade reached out, gripping Sakura's hands – raw from where she had picked at her cuticles because of the stress – tightly. "I understand how you must be feeling," she said quietly, but firmly. "Don't, Sakura. Remember that Itachi has deceived us all. The attack on his family was clearly pre-meditated and he had been planning it for a long time, all while acting completely normally. While we will never have any concrete proof, it seems clear that Itachi did not snap and murder them all in an act of violent, explosive rage." She hesitated, thinking of a way to word it. "…That is exactly why Itachi is the most dangerous kind of criminal. He isn't the loose cannon type. As I am sure you will know, he is inscrutable and difficult to read, and always comes across as calm, rational, and very sane." The Hokage blinked, obviously considering memories that Sakura couldn't begin to guess at. "…Over the years, I have seen a great deal of rogue shinobi. Shinobi who have cracked under the pressure and done terrible things, while often succeeding in maintaining a completely professional façade on the surface. Out of all of them, Itachi is perhaps the best at hiding what lies underneath. And you were not in any way to blame – there was no way you could have known. It was amnesia, Sakura, not ignorance or whatever it is that you're incorrectly blaming yourself for right now."

Sakura blinked away her tears, bringing her hands back to herself. "…Okay."

Tsunade's expression softened as she rose from her chair. "We'll talk more about this later. First, I need to summon Inoichi and Shizune. Inoichi will perform the memory returning procedure first, and then Shizune will give you a physical exam."

Sakura acquiesced quietly, and the next half hour, as Tsunade-shishou made her arragements, passed in a blur. She sat still in her chair, looking out the window and not quite seeing anything, letting everything – slowly and torturously – sink in. Finally, there were a couple of knocks on the door, before it opened and Tsunade-shishou stepped in, followed by a very tall, familiar-looking man who appeared oddly similar to Ino. He was more rugged, of course, but they had the same long blonde hair, worn in the same style, the same eye color – and the same genuine smile, which Sakura saw now; which she couldn't help but return.

After greeting her ("_It's great to have you back, Sakura. You've been missed,_") Inoichi took a seat across from her, in Tsunade's chair, and began to explain the procedure in detail, trying to set her at ease. It was a loose variant of the Mind-Body Switch, and it involved letting her guard down, allowing Inoichi to transfer his consciousness to her mind. From there, he wanted to search through her memories, find the ones that had slipped from her consciousness after her injury, and restore them again. "You'll gain back everything that was lost," he assured her. "It will be a completely painless, non-traumatic process."

Sakura nodded, feeling her heart pounding within her chest. She was so close to the one thing she thought she would never experience, and regardless of the world-shifting revelations that she had experienced since stepping into Tsunade-shishou's office, she still wanted this badly. She had to know the whole truth, no matter what that meant. "I'm ready."

Inoichi paused, looking momentarily sheepish, as if something had occurred to him at the last moment. "Actually, there is one thing. Four years ago, my daughter Ino used a variant of this technique on you during a preliminary match in the chunin exams. You…unconsciously did something that not many people are able to do, and you forced her out of your mind and body, preventing her from entering again. For that reason, I was wondering if you would consent to my performing this procedure on you while you are unconscious. It will be easier for both of us and will allow me to complete the process faster. As soon as you regain consciousness, you will remember everything."

"All right," Sakura agreed, and ignoring the last-minute trepidation that she felt, she reached out and placed her own hands in Inoichi's larger, calloused ones. He gripped them gently, staring into her eyes, and the second they made contact, she felt the pulse of his chakra entering into her body through her palms, running up into her arms with tremendous speed, and—

Everything went black.

Time passed, and finally, of their own accord, her eyes drifted open again, and she slowly sat up straight from where she had been leaning limply against the back of her chair. Tsunade-shishou and Inoichi were both staring at her, worried, and finally, Inoichi spoke. "Sakura?"

It took several moments for Sakura to regain her ability to speak. Her mind was racing faster than it ever had before as it processed the new things – a million new things, but not new at all. Not really.

"…I remember everything."

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_to be continued_

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As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. I hope the long chapter made up for the wait. :)


	12. The Reunion

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was fabulous enough to leave a review. :)_

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_Chapter Twelve: The Reunion _

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Exam Room Twelve. One of the larger rooms, located in a more out-of-the-way, discreet area of the hospital. It was nothing special, really. It had the same cold, stainless steel examination table and associated apparatuses; the drawers full of equipment; the cabinets that the patient's clothes were stored in after they changed into the thin, pale blue paper gowns that were laid out on the table for them. Even the harsh fluorescent lights, the chipped, tan paint on the wall, and the odd mint chocolate-chip tile on the floor was the same.

And yet, Sakura recognized this examination room – would have been able to distinguish it from any other in the hospital, even. She had worked in this one often. She remembered doing her very first healing in here, a month and a half after her apprenticeship with Tsunade-shishou began. It had been a comparatively minor flesh wound, a long gash on Hinata's thigh. She had been so nervous at the time that she was practically shaking, and Hinata had waited with inordinate patience as she executed the procedure, taking twice as long as she should have. She had smiled and thanked her sweetly when it was over, and Sakura had felt nearly light-headed with relief as she told Tsunade-shishou that her leg felt as good as new. The next time she had been in here, she had to give Shino a physical exam; it was suspected that he had been hit with a medical ninjutsu that had impeded optimal lung function. It was fairly straightforward work, but she had been secretly afraid when asking him to disrobe, because of the bugs.

She had also done countless healing sessions and diagnostic exams on ANBU returning from missions in Exam Room Twelve. She would never admit it to anybody, but she was still more than a little intimidated by them, the elite of Konoha, even though that didn't prevent her from working as thoroughly and efficiently as she always did. Most of them were polite enough, although it was still somewhat jarring to have to work on them without ever seeing their faces; just those disembodied, bone-white porcelain animal masks. She'd seen a few jounin in here, too. Most notably, Kakashi-sensei, after he had returned from some solo mission during Naruto's absence from the village. He had come in to see her because during the mission, his ribs had been injured. As he had only a rudimentary grasp of medical chakra and had never copied the technique with his Sharingan, he had healed them incorrectly.

Even now, Sakura felt herself blush a little, kicking out her bare feet in embarrassment. It had been flustering, to say the least, and keeping her composure had been a struggle. She had thought he was _so _hot shirtless, even though he was just Kakashi-sensei, and really, how mortifying was that? Inner Sakura had made the experience a nightmare and refused to be silenced. Somehow, she had kept her cool, and eventually took the opportunity to persuade him to remove the ubiquitous mask. Which he had refused to do, of course.

The rush of memories was overwhelming, and Sakura closed her eyes against the bright lights, taking a deep breath and shifting uncomfortably against her thin paper gown. The juxtaposition of those memories – life _before – _compared to life _after…_was still something she was struggling to adjust to. It felt like a different lifetime. It seemed completely insane, but the last time she had been in here was earlier in the morning, before Tsunade-shishou had assigned her that fateful mission to Cloud. Sakura had been tasked with healing a candidate for the jounin exams' internal bleeding after a vicious, chakra-laden hit to the stomach. The correction had been a moderately difficult one, but after that, she had stayed in the room for a few more minutes, to assure the terribly dejected-looking young man that, contrary to popular belief, serious injury during the combat rounds was not an automatic disqualifier for promotion. He finally smiled a little, looking more hopeful, and she had left the room feeling better herself.

…And now, seven months later, the roles were reversed. She had never been the one sitting on the steel table, fidgeting with discomfort and struggling to keep that thin paper gown on. Everything in the room, from details as mundane as the lighting to the pattern on the tiled floor, looked different from her changed perspective. For the first time, she wasn't the one performing the exam. _She _was the patient, even though she didn't feel hurt in any way…

_Physically, at least._ Sakura bit her lip, and for what felt like the hundredth time, the recollection of her conversation with Tsunade-shishou earlier in the morning surfaced at the forefront of her mind again, interspersed with the agonizingly fresh memories that Inoichi had brought back. The truth. _Itachi the Uchiha massacre Sasuke Naruto Akatsuki—_

Her stomach turned over, and she actually dry heaved, her fingers clutching the edge of the exam table so hard that her knuckles turned white. Regardless of what Tsunade-shishou had told her, the self-loathing, the fear, the confusion, the anger, the _disgust, _was as intense now as it had been in the moments after she had initially discovered the truth.

Before Sakura could let the thoughts eat at her mind any further, the door opened and Shizune entered, holding a clipboard and giving her a reassuring smile. She had obviously just been briefed by Tsunade-shishou, and despite the turmoil inside her, the pink-haired kunoichi felt herself relax fractionally. The knowledge that Shizune was the one doing the exam set her at ease…as much as was possible under the circumstances, at least. They had been reunited half an hour ago, before Tsunade's briefing of Shizune, and Sakura's spirits rose somewhat at the memory of waiting in Tsunade's office, hearing her mentor to speak to the senior apprentice. They had been in Shizune's adjacent office when Tsunade had broken the news, her tone hushed; words muffled by the door that separated them. Shizune's shocked exclamation, however, had been clearly audible, and when Tsunade-shishou continued to speak, obviously trying to convince her, Shizune had demanded to know whether Tsunade was drunk.

The tone of her voice had actually made Sakura smile; rejoicing at how familiarit was. She'd heard that hundreds of times before – it was Shizune's personal mission in life to stop their shishou's outrageous drinking habit. Predictably enough, Tsunade-shishou had been indignant – to say the least – and pulled Shizune into the office without further ado, bringing her face-to-face with Sakura. She looked even more shocked than Team Gai had, a few hours ago, before finally rushing forward and pulling her into a tight embrace, as if trying to convince herself that it wasn't some sort of hallucination. And regardless of how the very thought of other people knowing the true circumstances of her prolonged absence from Konoha made Sakura's chest constrict with true panic, she trusted Shizune's discretion and non-judgmental attitude as much as she trusted Tsunade-shishou. That was the only thing keeping her anxiety at bay.

The exam had a routine beginning, strangely comforting in how mundane it was. Shizune directed Sakura to the scale in the corner of the room, taking notes on both her weight and her blood pressure, before she returned to the examination table, and the pink-haired kunoichi could almost pretend it was like her very basic annual checkup.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions now, Sakura," Shizune began then, a serious expression replacing her typical friendly, serene countenance, and Sakura swallowed over her dry throat. It took a conscious effort to keep herself from fidgeting nervously. "First, Tsunade-shishou has noted that your original statement was that you have no memory whatsoever of the Akatsuki operatives physically harming you."

Sakura inclined her head stiffly, noticing Tsunade-shishou's word choice, and it was difficult to quell the emotion that rose up in her. Was that an implication that…they _could _have hurt her, and she just didn't remember it? It seemed outrageous, but it felt like she didn't know much of anything anymore; the line between what was real and what was not real had been so thoroughly blurred. "Yes," she said, finally, before pausing, and at the last moment, deciding to go with her instinct. "They never did."

Shizune made a note, again, looking thoughtful. "And to your knowledge, did Itachi ever use any genjutsu on you?"

"No." _Although I wouldn't remember it if he did, would I? _Sakura thought to herself bitterly. After all, that was the nature of genjutsu, especially the ones created by the Sharingan. And although she wanted to believe that it didn't happen – well, that session with Inoichi had eradicated every fragment of trust she'd ever had in Itachi. The kami knew that she had been completely vulnerable around him. It was enough to turn her stomach. It wasn't enough to say that her guard had been down. Hell, regarding the circumstances, her guard had been nonexistent. He certainly had enough opportunity to take advantage of that situation. "…Not to my knowledge, at least."

Shizune wrote that down as well, before flipping a page in the clipboard. The expression on her face changed, and Sakura felt her insides clench up with dread at what was coming next. Predictably enough, Shizune sighed, looking as if she was very much regretting bringing up such a sensitive topic. "And lastly…have you been sexually active?"

For her last three annual checkups, the answer had always been no, and Shizune had always asked the question with a faintly teasing tone to her voice, as an older sister to a younger one. But now… Sakura lowered her head, feeling herself burning with embarrassment and shame, and in that moment, she wanted to die. She nodded jerkily, unable to bring herself to say the words out loud.

She heard the compassion in Shizune's tone, but that didn't make it any better. "How long?"

Sakura closed her eyes briefly, forcing herself to think back. Memories that had made her blush with shy pleasure when she thought of them in the past now made her feel physically ill. "It started about two months ago," she responded, her voice barely audible.

"I see." Shizune paused, wording things delicately, as was her custom. "Were you physically forced or coerced in any way?"

Her phrasing made Sakura think of the word that was on both of their minds, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "No," she said shortly, and she couldn't figure out whether this caused her more or less shame.

"Were any contraceptive methods used?"

Sakura looked up sharply, startled out of the dark contemplations that had been running through her mind. "I remembered that I had placed a medical ninjutsu on myself – you know, the one to cease menstruation…and that should have prevented the possibility of conception, right?"

The look in Sakura's eyes was so suddenly, fiercely desperate, that Shizune nodded instinctively, finding herself tongue-tied. Still, she couldn't help but remember her conversation with Tsunade-shishou before starting this exam. Tsunade had been sitting at her desk, looking terribly weary, and despite the glamor ninjutsu she used, she appeared closer to her true age than she had in a long time. It was clear how deeply she was worried for Sakura. Shizune herself had been biting her lip, stunned by everything that her protégé had been through over the past several months, when Tsunade had spoken, her voice low with strain. _You'll need to check for conception,_ she said tersely.

Shizune had protested, saying that surely Sakura was using some form of birth control, as all kunoichi did. Though Tsunade-shishou had inclined her head in acknowledgement, she had gone on to say that that Itachi was a very powerful shinobi, and who knew what he could have done with his chakra; whether he had intentionally disrupted the technique in some way? Or what if Sakura's technique had faltered? She had instated it a little before she turned sixteen, and it had been more than a year since then. _The fact is, _Tsunade-shishou said at last, _this is Itachi Uchiha, and in lieu of what we've just learned, I wouldn't put anything past him. This is a very serious matter, Shizune. We take no chances. _

The mere memory of the conversation and its implications made a barely perceptible shiver run down the length of Shizune's spine. She forced herself to give Sakura – who looked a little less worried – a reassuring smile. "I know that you're probably sick and tired of being put under, since you've just come out of the memory recovery procedure with Inoichi, but…" Shizune hesitated. "This is going to be a very thorough examination that you may find invasive and uncomfortable to experience if you're conscious. Tsunade-shishou wants to take all precautions to make sure that you're all right in every possible way."

Sakura blinked, her stomach twisting up in knots, as she remembered the script that Shizune was giving her. She'd heard Tsunade-shishou go over it so many times. It was standard operating procedure on any kunoichi who had been sexually abused during a mission. The knowledge made her close her eyes briefly, and she bit her lip to suppress a shudder as she quietly acquiesced. This wasn't the kind of exam that anybody wanted to be awake for.

She had just enough time to see Shizune form the first three hand seals, before everything went black. Sakura's eyes closed, and as she went limp, Shizune caught her effortlessly, gently lowering her to the table. After brushing a lock of hair out of the younger medic-nin's face, Shizune pulled on her gloves, and then carefully untied Sakura's paper gown. Taking a deep breath, she pulled a thick coat of chakra to her hands, watching it tremble and pulse, like a living entity.

This wasn't just any run-of-the-mill medical chakra application. It was a special kind of diagnostic chakra, one that Tsunade-shishou had created and perfected before teaching to her. Most kinds of diagnostic chakra simply picked up on existing injuries, but this was different. The reason this technique was so remarkable was because it not only picked up on existing injuries, but it probed the body to find signs of all previous injuries or trauma – dating back to several months, depending on the proficiency of the medic-nin – even after the injuries in question had been healed by medical chakra or time. It also revealed exactly where the corrections had taken place. It was an invaluable resource, to say the least, and there was no doubt that it would come in very useful in this particular instance.

Shizune closed her eyes for a moment, marshaling all of her concentration, before beginning the exam. She worked slowly and thoroughly, frowning with thought, taking mental notes in detail. It was a long process, and by the time it was over, several beads of sweat had formed on her forehead. After one final inspection, she allowed the chakra to fade from her hands, and sighed at the release of tension as she re-tied Sakura's gown carefully. It took another ten minutes for her to write down her notes in the clipboard, and only then did she set it down and step forward, touching Sakura on the forehead gently.

The younger kunoichi woke up with a start, staring around the exam room with obvious disorientation. Her muscles were stiff from head to toe, and Sakura blinked a few times, struggling to reacquaint herself with her surroundings. There had been so much that had transpired in just the past twenty-four hours, and part of her was still expecting to be in her room in the base, Itachi at her side, every time she woke up.

Thankfully, she was distracted from that line of thought by the slightly worried look on Shizune's face. She had just consulted her clipboard again, and then she cleared her throat. "…I'm sorry that I keep bringing this up," she murmured. "I really am. But I have to ask you – when was the last time that you had intercourse?"

Sakura fought the urge to flinch against the words. They were so cold; clinical…disgusting…but she forced herself to speak up. "Late last night," she mumbled, her head spinning. It made her _sick, _the memory of it. Had it only been a few hours ago? It seemed like a lifetime. Surreal, now that she thought of it. The feeling of her bed, of her body tangled up with Itachi's, their lips pressing together, his fingers twined in her hair, his other hand tracing abstract patterns on the bare skin of her back, as she cuddled up against him, nestling her head against his shoulder. It had felt so horribly _right, _so simple, so pure, even, at the time. She had been overwhelmed with emotion the complete opposite of what she felt now. _I love you, Itachi, _she had whispered to him, meaning every word, and now…

Her fingers curled up into white-knuckled fists, and the potent cocktail of mingled rage and confusion and heartbreak that coursed through her wasn't helped by the fact that once again, she picked up on Shizune's slightly worried expression as she made another addition to the clipboard notes. Finally, she made her way over to the cabinets at the corner of the room, withdrawing Sakura's neatly folded clothes and bringing them over to her. "You can get dressed again," she told her, with a gentle smile. "I'm going back to Tsunade-shishou's office to make my report, so you should head over there as soon as you're ready."

Sakura nodded her assent and thanked her, and Shizune disappeared in a swirl of leaves. An instant later, she materialized in the middle of the Hokage's office, and she put a hand out, resting it on the back of a chair in order to steady herself. As she had expected, she found Tsunade-shishou pacing the room restlessly, like a caged tiger, and she stopped suddenly, appearing as though she was bracing herself to hear potentially unpleasant news. "Well?"

Shizune took a deep breath, clasping her hands behind her back as she began her report. "I used the advanced diagnostic technique that you taught me recently, and…" she trailed off, looking down at her clipboard once again. "The findings were…unusual."

Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"There wasn't a mark on her – aside from the stab wound to the ribs and the original trauma to the head, which had been healed. Judging from the unfamiliar chakra signature and the Fire type, the healing was performed by Itachi Uchiha. We know for a fact that both of those injuries came from the Cloud kunoichi. Aside from those two instances, was absolutely no trace, not the faintest indication, to show that Sakura had been harmed whatsoever." She paused, blushing slightly. "I did detect very faint bruises that Sakura had healed on her own, on her neck, shoulders, and hips – which could be expected, considering the…nature of her relationship with the Uchiha. Judging from the severity and pattern, they were not made in violence. Furthermore, there were no signs of the type of trauma that would indicate that Sakura had been forced."

Tsunade's lips parted in surprise, her face echoing the confusion and astonishment that Shizune had felt. "What?"

"That's not all, shishou. I also did an extensive mental exam, and the results showed, without the shadow of a doubt, that Sakura hasn't been exposed to _any _genjutsu over the seven month period of her absence. None whatsoever." Shizune shook her head, bemused. "She's completely clean. There's not even the faintest trace."

By this point, Tsunade looked downright stunned. She made her way to her desk, sitting down heavily. "Itachi Uchiha," she pronounced quietly, as if dazed. "The man has murdered his entire family, and who knows how many others, and tortured his own brother into borderline insanity, and…well, there's no question what a depraved individual he is. Yet, you're telling me that, for all intents and purposes, he never laid a finger on Sakura? That she was completely at his mercy, and he never harmed her – hell, even attempted to torture her or coerce her for information – in any way? He _knew _that she was Naruto's only teammate – Naruto, his primary target!"

Shizune nodded soberly. "I'm as shocked as you are, shishou. I went over Sakura so many times, just to convince myself that there was no mistake. Her original statement was absolutely correct. She's in perfect physical health, with no trace of any injury or malnutrition. It looks like he treated her as gently as a child with his favorite toy." She sighed, her eyes downcast. "Before going in, after your briefing…I was prepared for the worst. Of course, this wasn't what I expected to find at all."

Tsunade inclined her head, her eyes narrowed with thought as she let the information sink in. Shizune's phrase echoed in her mind. _As gently as a child with his favorite toy. _Everything about these circumstances sent alarm bells ringing in her head. The information that they had discovered since Sakura's return didn't seem to add up with what they knew about the Uchiha at all – but could it be possible that it was as simple as Shizune had suggested? It didn't seem probable that a man as cruel and violent as Itachi was capable of developing a soft spot for anything or anybody, but…who knew how his mind worked? In the course of her life, she had even witnessed cases of men who killed their wives, but adored their children fiercely. Stranger things had happened, but she would have to consider this matter further, in any case.

A few moments passed before Tsunade's shoulders stiffened again, and she tapped her fingers on the desk, the tension evident in her lowered voice. "And the other matter that I asked you to look into?"

Her meaning was all too clear, and Shizune shook her head, feeling equally on edge. "Sakura stated that the last time she and Itachi had intercourse was last night, just a few hours ago. It's far too soon to tell."

Tsunade exhaled slowly, massaging her forehead. Finally, she looked up and smiled faintly, the web of frown lines on her brow relaxing just a little. "Thank you, Shizune."

Shizune stood and bowed formally, straightening with a smile. "Anytime, shishou. It's just wonderful to have Sakura back. Speaking of which, she should be coming here any moment, like you asked."

Shizune vanished in a swirl of leaves, and Tsunade had barely enough time to lean back in her chair, thinking longingly of the bottle of sake in her drawer, before there was another flare of chakra, and Sakura appeared in the room. She looked exhausted, and Tsunade gestured for her to sit, which she did. "I'm sure that you would like to hear the results of Shizune's examination."

Sakura hesitated, before nodding apprehensively, and thankfully, Tsunade-shishou got right to the point, as she always did. "Your original statement was absolutely correct, and it seems that my doubts were unfounded. You were in fact uninjured, aside from the wounds inflicted on you during the initial conflict with the Cloud kunoichi. There was also no use of genjutsu whatsoever, to extract information or otherwise."

Sakura took a deep breath, stunned. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to sort out her thoughts. As she had told Shizune, her instinct had led her to believe that was true. Still, part of her had feared the worst. She had been so completely deceived by Itachi and Kisame that it blurred her entire perception of what had been real, and what had been part of the elaborate lie they had crafted. Noting the expression on her face, Tsunade tilted her head to the side a little bit. "How are you feeling, Sakura?" she asked softly.

Sakura gritted her teeth against the perverse, incongruous desire to laugh bitterly. How could she possibly answer that question? As silly and trivial as it sounded, she had always prided herself on how articulately and intelligently she could express herself when the situation arose – when she wasn't too blinded; too _overwhelmed, _with emotion, as she was now. She felt – more than what words could even express. She could talk for half an hour and not even come close to scratching the surface of the despair and horror and anger and shock that crushed her like a bug under a giant's foot. She couldn't find words to describe, while still remaining coherent, the way that she still felt in shock, somehow removed from it all. Then, without warning, the realization of the truth, the _whole _terrible truth, would hit her again, with as much viciousness as it had the first time, making her feel like she was going to cry.

She had no idea how to explain the pervasive, insidious feeling of being…dirty. Contaminated. Tainted. The words in Itachi's file had burned themselves into her memory, and Sakura was unable to stop herself from visualizing him in the Uchiha compound on that autumn night – walking toward his parents' room, bloody katana clutched in one fist. Before that, appearing within the homes of the other Uchiha families' houses (aunts, uncles, cousins), silent as a ghost, stalking and killing them before they even realized that something was amiss. Cruelly, heartlessly murdering even the youngest, most vulnerable, most defenseless _children. _Her heart ached, ached like it was splitting apart from the force of it, from the fresh realization of the horror that Itachi's victims had experienced on that night – being brutally killed by one of their own. A member of their _family, _the heir to their clan, a young man they would have respected and looked up to – the last person that they would have ever expected, in their wildest nightmares.

And he had _tortured _Sasuke, and it broke her heart. Little eight-year-old Sasuke, who had arrived from a day at the Academy to witness such a terrifying, grotesque tableau. Itachi had scarred Sasuke for life. As if what he had done to his family hadn't been cruel enough, _he _was the one who was responsible for driving Sasuke to the depths that he had reached. It had been Itachi's taunting about Sasuke being too weak to ever avenge their clan that had motivated Sasuke to abandon the village – abandon _them _– and seek out Orochimaru, and become…the person that he was now; the dark, ruined shadow of his former self.

_Itachi. _It was all Itachi. Not only hadhe damaged Sasuke so badly, he was also the one who was hunting down Naruto with the complete intent of killing him. The mere thought was enough to make Sakura's stomach turn, again. All that time Itachi and Kisame had kept her with them…and the whole time, they had _known. _Had they potentially even been _planning _Naruto's capture at the time? A new and even more disturbing prospect crossed her mind then: whether they had been intending on using her as bait, of a sort, for him. They must have known that her sole remaining teammate would have been anguished over her disappearance, and that he would have done anything to bring her back home, even if it meant putting himself in danger.

Repulsed by the thought, Sakura felt her hands curling into fists, her fingernails biting into her palms. The very thought of Itachi and all that he had done, and all that he was responsible for – made her feel ill with fury and disgust. He had stolen Sasuke away from her, from all of them. He would have done the same to Naruto as well. Perhaps he had even been planning to use her as a pawn in his plans. And yet, she had…consorted with him. In the worst way possible. She saved him from falling victim to that potentially fatal illness. She served as an accomplice in capturing the Four-Tails. For those things alone_, _she deserved to be stripped of her rank and exiled from the village. She had betrayed Konoha's interests terribly.

And on many levels, the betrayal was even more personal than what had transpired then. Not only had Itachi led her (because she didn't _know _better, damn it) to work against the political and security interests of her own home…he had deceived her in so many other ways. She had thought of him as a friend. She had liked him, admired him, _trusted _him…

_Loved him, _Inner Sakura completed mutedly, and Sakura's eyes stung with tears. She shifted in the chair, trying to stifle the compulsive, irrational urge to rub at her skin. She felt dirty. She felt like filth. She felt like she needed to shower for hours under scalding hot water and rub every inch of her skin painfully raw. She had let him _touch _her. Be intimate with her, even. He and Kisame had saved her just to use her for her medical skills and maybe, as an object to lure Naruto away from the safety of Konoha. Had Itachi enjoyed taking the deceit one step further and using her for his own selfish desires? Did it amuse him, to think that he had finally fucked over the entirety of Team Seven? He had driven Sasuke to borderline insanity and was planning to kill Naruto – might as well complete the set, right? He must have known that she would have hated him more than _anything, _if she had been in her right mind. That she would have rather died by her own hand than aid him in any way, let alone allow him to…

And that was probably precisely why he did it. It was the kind of horrible, screwed-up thing the Itachi described in the file would do.

The thought hurt too badly, and despite her desperate attempt to push those memories away, for the sake of her own sanity, it was too late. _I love you too, Sakura, _Itachi had told her softly, less than twenty-four hours ago; brushing a strand of hair away from her face; his touch tenderly lingering at her temple. _Very much. _

Sakura fought the urge to shudder. A lie. Of course. Even at that moment, had he been considering when he and Kisame were going to contact Naruto, to lure him into a trap? Had he been secretly rejoicing over the fact that she had healed him completely, returning him to full strength, just in time for him to face Sasuke again? _Yes, Sakura, I love you for being so very stupid and naïve and trusting, so unaware, for playing so perfectly into my hands, for being the very pawn I needed right now…_

She felt Tsunade's searching gaze on her, waiting for a response, and Sakura bowed her head, too miserable to speak. What could she say that wouldn't make Tsunade consider committing her to the psych ward? The truth – that the full knowledge of what had transpired over the past seven months was too much to bear, and the pain and self-hatred and guilt she felt now, made her want to permanently decimate her own memories with a medical ninjutsu and go _far _away – wasn't an option, of course. "I can't really explain it, shishou," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "I'm sure you can understand…"

Tsunade watched her for several moments, the expression on her face unreadable. Finally, she reached out, gripping her student's hands in her own. "I told you earlier not to blame yourself," she repeated quietly. "And while you may be experiencing feelings of guilt for what happened, those emotions are utterly unwarranted. You had no way of knowing."

Sakura nodded, feeling numb, and Tsunade withdrew with a sigh, understanding that that she wasn't getting through to her apprentice right now. Perhaps it was too soon. "You've been through an extraordinarily traumatic experience," she said then. "If you ever want to talk, you know that I am here for you. If it would make you feel more comfortable, I can also give you a reference to one of the village's post-mission counselors. Considering the nature of the profession, they are perhaps the most trustworthy, confidential individuals in Konoha. There's no need to worry about judgment. They will help you if you seek out that treatment."

Sakura inclined her head again, forcing herself to give a small, polite smile. "Thank you for being so understanding, shishou," she replied genuinely. "But right now…" she sighed wearily, her thoughts a million miles away as she lifted her hand, raking her fingers through her hair. "I just want to go home. I can't wait to see my parents." Her heart ached as she thought of them; imagined how terribly worried her mom and dad must have been – _especially _her mother. She remembered, now, the fight that they'd had the night before she left for her mission to Cloud. She had been so frustrated with what she perceived as her mother's overprotective attitude, and so insistent that everything was going to be just _fine. _So confident – overconfident – in her own abilities; scoffing at the implication that she would be unsafe during a solo mission… But at least they had made up, before she left. She had got to hug them both goodbye.

Sakura's eyes filled up with tears at the thought of her parents' reaction upon hearing of her changed status – _missing, presumed dead. _It would have _killed _them. Suddenly, all of her personal anguish over Itachi faded to the background – all she wanted to do was be reunited with them, _now, _and throw herself into their arms (hear her dad's voice and feel her mom's too-tight hugs) and never let go. She stood up hastily, bowing respectfully and waiting to be dismissed.

But instead of the dismissal she expected, Tsunade-shishou spoke up sharply. "Wait." She sighed again, rubbing her forehead. "…Sit down, please."

Sakura did so automatically, surprised by the command. She noted how weary and sad Tsunade-shishou looked as she intertwined her fingers together, looking at her seriously. "Sakura, there's no easy way to say this…" she began slowly. "But your parents are gone."

In that instant, Sakura felt her heart stop. No degree of fear that she had ever experienced in her life seemed to come close to what struck her in that moment. "…What?" Her stomach was churning with fright, and she leaned forward, unable to control her anxiety. "What do you mean, they're gone?" Her mind started spiraling out of control, envisioning freak accidents – illnesses, travel accidents, building collapses, armed robbery— and she closed her eyes against the thoughts and mental images, taking a deep breath and trying to prevent herself from giving into a state of total, blinding panic.

"They left Konoha shortly after your memorial," Tsunade replied quietly, sympathetically. "It was just…too much for them to bear."

_Oh, god. _Sakura bit her lip hard in hopes that the pain would distract her from the wave of torment that swept over her. "Where did they go?" she managed, struggling to keep from thinking of their reaction; of the indescribable pain they would have experienced. "I know that the village keeps records when retired shinobi leave, for whatever reason—"

Tsunade shook her head slowly, looking as almost as agonized as she felt. "They're civilians, Sakura. There are no records. Inoichi said that they were going to go stay with some distant relative on your mother's side, until they figured things out. They had no idea where they wanted to go. From my understanding, they just wanted to leave Konoha as soon as possible, because remaining here was too difficult. I am…I am sorry, Sakura, truly."

The words hardly registered; the shock that she felt was so complete. Her parents were _gone_. They had disappeared, thinking that she was dead, and now she had no idea where to find them, and—

Crippled by sorrow and beyond caring about maintaining her composure, Sakura bent forward, cupping her face in her hands. It was a struggle to even manage to breathe in and out. Through everything, through the tumultuous life as a kunoichi, her parents had been a comforting, supportive constant. They were her rock. No matter what she went through and the often terrible things she saw and did during missions, she could always return to her home at night and allow herself to revert to being just her parents' cherished only child. She'd play shogi and other board games with her father, and cook with or talk to her mother. It was a luxury that so many of her comrades didn't have, and as she had grown older, she had appreciated it. She _loved _them. And unlike her friends' parents, hers were civilians, and she never had to worry about losing them on a mission. As naïve as it sounded, she imagined them being there for her, forever, always waiting for her to return from a mission, back to the small red brick house, and now – they were gone. _Gone._

After a long time, Sakura became conscious of somebody stroking her hair comfortingly – much like her mother used to do for her – and with difficulty, she straightened into a proper sitting position, wiping her hands on her skirt. Tsunade left her side then, returning to her chair on the other side of the desk, and she pulled a drawer open, rummaging within it for several moments. At last, she withdrew a small golden key, emblazoned with the number seven. "This is for the new apartment complex," she told her quietly, sliding the key over in front of her. Even through Sakura's distress, she saw the guilt in Tsunade's eyes – but she didn't have the strength to say anything now. "Luxury accommodations, designed for visiting ambassadors and shinobi from other countries. There's no need to worry about rent. I know that it's not…that it doesn't come close to compensating…but at least you'll have a place to call your own."

Sakura accepted the key, curling her fist around it and feeling the cool metal in the warmth of her palm. "Thank you, shishou," she murmured, but the gratitude she felt was tempered by something else burning inside of her – a cold fire of fresh, new hatred for Itachi, choking in its intensity. He had betrayed, manipulated, and deceived her in the worst way, yes, but that could have been…forgiven. Knowing what she knew now, it didn't even seem to be important. The unforgivable thing – the final, ultimate act of terrible cruelty – was that he had stolen her parents away from her and caused them agony beyond comprehension. He had allowed Konoha and her parents to believe that she was dead. It would have broken their hearts, and now they were gone, and she had no idea how to find them and set things right.

Sakura gritted her teeth, struggling to keep her temper under control. There were circumstances, as a kunoichi, that called for her to take the lives of other human beings. On those instances, it was a necessity. It was simply doing her duty. There was no real emotion behind it. But now…now she understood, just a little, of what Sasuke must feel every day. The extreme degree of sorrow, mingled with terrible rage, that made somebody _want _to kill another person, because of the screaming sense of _how could you do this to me_? She had never understood it before, but this depth of betrayal could make somebody want to lock their hands around somebody's throat and choke the life out of them; to stab them in the heart; to send a lethal medical ninjutsu in their direction and watch them fall like a puppet with the strings cut out from under it… Forget Sasuke – it was all she could do not to excuse herself from Tsunade-shishou's office right now and leave to hunt Itachi down himself, like the monster that he was. She knew where the base was. She could force him to answer all of her questions and then make him _beg _for her forgiveness, before she ended it.

Thankfully unaware of the thoughts going through her apprentice's mind and completely misinterpreting the pensive expression on her face, Tsunade glanced at the clock in the corner of the room. "Naruto and Kakashi are due to return from a mission in two hours," she said, tapping her finger against the desk with a small smile. "They're fond of cutting through Training Ground Six on their way here. You can find them there and give Naruto the surprise of his life. Until then, though – Ino is now located downstairs in the Torture and Interrogations Department. She apprenticed with Ibiki six months ago, and I believe she should be finished with her first shift now."

Even through her despair and the dark contemplations that had been lingering in her mind, Sakura lifted her gaze. Her heart fluttered with anticipation so strong that it was like a physical ache at the prospect of seeing her closest friends again. She even gave a brief mental prayer of gratitude that nothing had happened to Naruto or Ino while she was gone. That would have been too much to bear on top of what she had just discovered. "Thank you, Tsunade-shishou."

Sakura made her way to the door, her hand resting on the doorknob, before a thought suddenly occurred to her. She turned back abruptly, looking at Tsunade, who raised an eyebrow curiously. "Shishou? What…what happened to the Konoha shinobi who were missing in action, captured by Cloud? The ones whose names were on the list?" She still remembered that list; the fragile yellow paper; the way her heart had thudded with foreboding as she had looked at it for the first time; the sense of purpose and responsibility she had felt when she folded it into the inner pocket of her vest and began the journey to Cloud. The intense desperation she had felt when fleeing the Cloud shinobi team…knowing that if she died, she would have failed every single one of those fellow Konoha shinobi. She even recalled specific names: Emi Kido, Kiyomi Okui, Ryu Nakamoto… The list had been the last thing on her mind before she lost consciousness after the Cloud kunoichi's brutal attack. And it had been the catalyst for everything she had experienced in the seven months since first laying eyes on it.

To Sakura's surprise, Tsunade smiled slightly. "We worked out an…arrangement, shall we say, with Cloud. They had no choice but to return all of our captured shinobi back to the village, or risk facing the consequences. Every person on the list I gave to you has been given extensive medical attention and they are on their way to full recovery. They have also been safely reunited with their families and are now receiving large pensions, as per village policy. They were very grateful to you, Sakura. We all are."

Sakura exhaled slowly, letting the information wash over her, and for the first time in what felt like days, she gave a genuine smile as well. It was truly heartwarming to imagine those prisoners of war and the joy they would have experienced upon being reunited with families and friends they thought they would never see again. Parents and children, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, together again… Fifteen people, freed from imprisonment and returned to the home that they sacrificed so much for; where they belonged. Yes, her mission had gone very wrong, but…for that, for the lives of those fifteen people, for their loved ones…in the end, it all been worth it.

* * *

Sakura could count on one hand the times she had ventured into the Torture and Interrogations Department, located in the bowels of Hokage Tower. Her memory of the location was faint, and in the end, two chunin analysts had given her directions. Probably thanks to Team Gai, the word of her return had spread. She was stopped and greeted, even embraced, by about forty people in the time it took her to proceed from the top floor of the tower to the basement. The attention was slightly overwhelming, especially when she first had to relay the fabricated story about where she had been for the past seven months to a raptly listening crowd of special jounin. Still, though, the unmistakable sense of being _home, _back where she belonged, seeing so many friendly familiar faces and being able to remember all of them, had improved her mood.

Shivering somewhat at the cold temperature in this area of the building, she placed the palm of her hand flat on the sensor that would allow her entry to the department, barely hearing the soft hiss that emanated from it in recognition of her chakra signature. This part of Hokage Tower was a complete contrast from the bustling business upstairs – the narrow gray hallways were empty, and every solid steel door was shut. Sakura glanced at the small inscriptions on each door that she passed – interrogation room, interrogation room, conference room, interrogation room, Inoichi's office, Ibiki's office—

She stopped dead, smiling at the name on the next door that she saw. _Ino Yamanaka. _She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, impressed. After six months, Ino had her own office already – she must have inherited her dad's extraordinary talent for interrogation. Sakura knocked once, feeling nervous despite herself, before realizing that there was no chakra signature behind the door. Ino must be out, and when she tried the door, on impulse, she found that it was unlocked. She glanced around the deserted hallway quickly, figuring that there was no harm in it, and then stepped inside, shutting the door behind her and staring around the dimly lit office.

It was small, windowless, and laid out in the standard fashion, with a desk and chairs in the middle and almost all the wall space taken up by filing cabinets. And yet…Sakura looked around again, unable to keep herself from admiring the royal purple velvet chair cover; the elegant glass vase on the corner of the desk, filled with freshly picked and beautifully arranged flowers; the calendar that was stuck to the front of one of the file cabinets, depicting images of the year's hottest movie stars in various smoldering poses. The familiarity of it was enough to make her head spin. Ino had definitely made the place her own.

She stepped toward the desk, taking a seat on the plush swiveling chair, deciding to wait for her friend to show up. It was only than that Sakura noticed the silver-framed pictures – they were small and discreet, pushed behind an organizer so that they would only be visible to Ino herself, and not anybody sitting on the other side of the desk. The first photograph was of Ino and her parents – the sight made her heart hurt – presumably after her promotion to chunin. Ino beamed at the camera jubilantly; her mother and father had their arms around her. The second was a strip of recent photos, the kind taken in a photo booth, and Sakura giggled at the outrageous faces Ino, Shikamaru, and Chouji had made in each frame.

And the last…she lifted it up disbelievingly, remembering this particular image from a long time ago. Ten years, almost. It was so strange to see both of them looking so young. She and Ino stood in the middle of the meadow behind the academy, wearing matching daisy chain necklaces and huge smiles.

Sakura took a deep, steadying breath in order to calm herself, feeling the tears prick at the backs of her eyes. Before she was even finished gently placing the photo back down, the door opened, and her gaze snapped upward. For a few seconds, time seemed to freeze. Ino stopped dead, halfway inside the room, her eyes widening and all the color draining from her face. The heavy stack of files she had precariously balanced in her hands fell to the floor with a loud thud, scattering pages all over the office.

Sakura stood up – part of her wondering whether her best friend was in any danger of fainting and, if so, whether she had enough time to catch her before she hit the ground – even as a tremulous smile played across her face. It took an effort to formulate words rather than just scream with joy and rush forward and tackle her against the opposite wall. "…Hey, Ino-pig."

An unreadable emotion flashed through the other kunoichi's eyes, and an unearthly display of speed, Ino materialized in front of Sakura, embracing her so tightly that it made it difficult to breathe, obviously trying to convince herself that this was all real – as if there was a danger that she would disappear in a puff of smoke just like a dispelled genjutsu. Sakura held on equally hard, just as shaken. She felt the warm, salty moisture of tears running down her cheeks and further down onto her shoulders, and she could no longer distinguish whose they belonged to.

"Dad told me to go back to my office as soon as my shift was done," Ino sobbed. Sakura had neverheard her cry like this before, not even when Chouji had been hospitalized during the mission to retrieve Sasuke four years ago. She took deep breaths between words, struggling to remain coherent. "He said that there was a surprise…something that I would really want to see…and he refused to speak up at all when I kept asking him about it, and you know that's strange, because he usually cracks after the sixth time I ask him. Then Ibiki-sensei told me that Dad had been summoned up to Tsunade-sama's office earlier today for something super confidential, and – I don't know, I just thought _what if, _but then I thought I was just being ridiculous, and there was no way—"

She stopped then, still crying hard. Sakura fumbled with the pockets of her medical skirt, withdrawing a roll of soft bandages and dabbing at Ino's eyes with them. For the first time, Ino smiled. Then a bit of their usual dynamic resurfaced, when she punched Sakura in the arm without warning. "_Well_?" she demanded.

"Ouch! Well, what?"

Ino gave her a patently disbelieving look, after blowing her nose into the roll of bandages. She grabbed Sakura's hand, and forgoing the formality of the desk, they sat down on the floor together, kicking the dropped files aside and locking the door. "What do you think, Forehead Girl? You disappear for months – _months _– on end, and everybody had thought that you were…dead…and now, here you are! What _happened? _Where have you been?"

The look on Ino's face was so pained that Sakura hesitated briefly. It seemed terrible to lie to her closest friend to her face like this, knowing that Ino would never do that to her, but there was no alternative. On some level, she knew that Ino wouldn't despise her upon hearing the truth – but the pity she would receive would be even worse, and she didn't want Ino to think any differently of her. Besides, it would ultimately be less complicated if only Tsunade and Shizune, and perhaps Inoichi, knew the truth. Her mind made up, she slowly, haltingly, she relayed the story she had already told to so many people.

Ino listened raptly, nodding every few sentences, her eyes as wide as saucers. It made Sakura oddly queasy with guilt to see how completely she believed her story, without a doubt. "It's awful," she breathed, shaking her head. "Waking up with no idea where you came from or any memory of the past – and traveling all on your own too, waiting to see if your memory would eventually come back…" Her eyes darkened, her expression getting even more serious. "You're so brave, Sakura, truly. And it's lucky that you finally ran across that shopkeeper who recognized your description of Konoha and gave you directions to the Fire Country! I mean, theoretically, you could have been lost for much longer, until your memory returned fully on its own, and who knew how many more months that would have been…"

Sakura made herself nod convincingly, and then Ino sat up straight, looking startled. "Oh, _no._"

"What?" Sakura replied immediately, wondering if there had been anything more than her parents' absence that Tsunade-shishou had forgotten to mention to her. She knew that Ino and Naruto were all right, but Kakashi-sensei? Had the rest of the Akatsuki attempted some attack on Konoha, causing casualties?

Ino shook her head ruefully, her long ponytail swishing with the motion. "I just realized what this means…Naruto was right all along. Tsunade-sama must have told you that he never actually believed that you had been…killed. All the way until the memorial, Naruto maintained that he _knew _you weren't gone, that he sensed your presence somehow, and that you were probably just slowly recuperating from your wounds in some backwoods rural clinic in Cloud and needed help getting back home. Tsunade-sama, Kakashi-sensei, and Jiraya-sama had their hands full preventing him from running off in search of you. Claimed they couldn't risk him starting an international incident – which totally _could _have happened. He wanted Cloud's blood for what they had done to you, so it wouldn't have ended well for any Cloud shinobi he would have run across on the way up there."

Sakura swallowed over the tightness in her throat, unable to deal with the mental images of Naruto's unbearable anguish that Ino's words had evoked. Somewhere deep inside the recesses of her brain, Inner Sakura chalked up another mark against Itachi – another reason he deserved death, preferably at her hands.

Ino read the expression on her face, her eyes softening. "He's coming back from a mission today. Please don't feel sad, Sakura. Seeing you again is probably going to be the happiest moment of his life, and all the pain of the past will be forgotten."

"Right," Sakura whispered, and after seeing how worried Ino looked, she tried to brighten up a little, for her friend's sake. "So, catch me up! After the procedure that your dad did, I was expecting to see you reporting for duty this morning along with Shizune – and then I heard that you're Ibiki's apprentice now? How did that happen?"

Ino waved one hand distractedly. "I enjoyed the work, and I was decent enough to become qualified as a standard field medic, but…I don't know, it didn't feel _right _to continue on with my apprenticeship with you…gone. There were just too many memories. It was like…whenever I was in an exam room, or in the lab, or working on a patient, or even doing the work with poisons, you were right there with me. But then I remembered that you weren't coming back."

The words hurt to listen to, and Sakura closed her eyes. Even though it was irrational, she felt wracked with guilt at putting her loved ones through so much anguish. It was like a perpetual, gnawing ache inside. "Ino…"

"It's _fine, _Forehead. Don't even think about apologizing. You're the logical one, remember, the medical expert? Then you should fully understand that you weren't responsible. You. Had. Amnesia. You couldn't exactly help it." Ino punctuated each word with a poke to Sakura's arm, before drawing back, satisfied that her point had been made. "You're home now, and that's what matters. Besides, who knew, it actually turned out that I have an aptitude for this work!" She lowered her voice, glowing with pride. "I'm one of the top five interrogators already! Ibiki-sensei even says that because of how well I've mastered the clan's jutsu, among other things, I have the most promise out of all the new recruits."

Sakura raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. Now that she thought of it, this type of career specialization did seem perfect for Ino, and it was also a prestigious, highly coveted position. "…Nice, Ino-pig. I hate to say this, but I'm actually impressed."

Ino smirked right back at her. "Yeah, yeah. But don't be offended, Sakura, I'll always remember that we had some great times together as Tsunade-sama's apprentices. Do you remember when we were supposed to be staying late in the lab to memorize the bones and muscles in the cadavers, and we ended up having a scalpel fight over you implying that I was stupid?"

"How could I forget? You tripped and fell elbow-first into the missing-nin's liver. Then you screamed so loudly that Izumo and Kotetsu came running, convinced we were under attack. And I did _not _imply that you were stupid, I was just trying to give you the benefit of my advanced knowledge…"

Ino giggled, rubbing her elbow. "It was so squishy. You were lucky that they came in when they did, I was about two seconds away from grabbing the cadaver's heart out of the body and pelting it at you."

They exchanged looks and then dissolved into laughter at the same time. And finally, when they had both calmed down slightly, Ino rested her head on Sakura's shoulder. "I'm so glad you're home, Sakura," she said quietly. "Really. You have no idea."

Sakura leaned to the side, her cheekbone pressing against her friend's hair. "Me too, Ino," she murmured, overwhelmed with gratitude. Life without memories of all those moments, of scalpel fights with Ino, silly but adventure-filled missions with Naruto and Sasuke, quiet evenings at home with her parents, going on wild hunts for the escaped Tonton with Shizune, listening to Tsunade-shishou's life lessons…it was only now, of course, that she realized how empty that life had been. And though recovering from her amnesia and learning the truth had brought her tremendous pain, now, she was complete again. "Me too."

She and Ino spent the next hour and a half in the office, talking until both of their throats hurt, until Sakura took a chance look at the clock in the corner of the room and felt a shudder of mingled anticipation and nervousness run through her body. Ino noticed, tilting her head to the side. "What's up?"

"Naruto," she said quietly, standing up and wiping her palms off against her skirt. "From what Tsunade-shishou told me, he should be approaching Konoha right now. Apparently he and Kakashi-sensei always cross through Training Ground Six on their way to Hokage Tower."

Ino nodded, rising from the floor as well. "Yeah, they do! Come on, I'll walk you there."

They made their way out of the tower and through the village, toward the training ground, Ino playfully mocking her as she stared around Konoha's streets eagerly, drinking the familiar sights in with her eyes. It was a short walk to ground six, and once they got there, Ino sighed unhappily, looking up at the sky. "I have to head back. Ibiki-sensei's been lenient today, considering the circumstances, but I can't miss the observation scheduled for this afternoon."

Sakura smiled, reading the expression on her friend's face. "Cheer up, Ino-pig. I'm still going to be right here three hours from now, when you're done for the day."

"You better be, Forehead Girl." Still, Ino hugged Sakura tightly again, as if trying to reassure herself that her words were true.

She set off back in the direction of Hokage Tower again, and Sakura watched her go affectionately as she made her way through the long grass, plucking a purple wildflower on the way out and sticking it in her pocket. Finally, the pink-haired kunoichi turned back, facing east, toward the distant village gate. She closed her eyes, training her focus on Naruto's chakra signature and stretching her chakra-sensing capabilities to the limit. There was nothing yet.

Sakura took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and began her wait.

* * *

For the first time in…well, perhaps, _ever, _Naruto wished for a more lightweight outfit. Sure, he still loved the color of his jumpsuit – it was orange, so it didn't conduct heat like Kakashi-sensei's black ensemble – and he appreciated that it at least looked manly (unlike a certain teammate of his) and the full coverage prevented him from getting scratched by stray branches as he leapt through the treetops, as he did now…but still. With the summer afternoon sun beating down on them and not a trace of a breeze in the air, it was _hot. _

His stomach grumbled audibly, and Naruto cast a rueful glance up at the position of the sky. Two PM. By the time they got back to Konoha, Ichiraku's lunch special would be over.

"What's eating you, Dickless? You look even worse than you did that time when you broke your arm and we had to splint it. I thought you'd be happy to head back home after a week in the middle of nowhere."

Naruto glanced out of the corner of his eye at Sai's blandly placid face, and although he felt Kakashi-sensei look over at him, anticipating the usual heated retort, he remained silent, keeping his eyes trained straight ahead. He hadn't been in the mood to exchange insults with his socially crippled replacement teammate to begin with, and although he had no idea – of course – Sai's comment had just touched another nerve, sending his mood plummeting downward even further.

The incident he had referenced had been Sai's first mission with him and Kakashi-sensei…after. He had broken his arm during a fight. Kakashi-sensei had to set and splint it. The pain had been as bad as could have been expected, but he hadn't cried because of that. It had been the knowledge that if things were how they were supposed to be; if everything hadn't gone so disgustingly _fucking _wrong, it would be Sakura-chan kneeling in front of him underneath that oak tree, murmuring softly, reassuringly, as she took his injured arm and mended the broken bone with one sweep of her hand. And then, like she had done a hundred times before, she would have playfully chided him and told him to be more careful and less reckless next time, because _what are you going to do if I'm not here, Naruto? _

_You're always going to be here, Sakura-chan, _he had replied, supremely confident, beaming at her thankfully. _You're the best!_

But it wasn't like that. She _wasn't _there, on that mission – and the realization hit him all over again that she would never be by his side on any mission, ever again – and Naruto had cried as Kakashi-sensei set the broken bone. Sai, looking on impassively, had commented that he was weaker than a twelve-year-old child and didn't deserve to be called a man.

Naruto exhaled slowly, struggling to push those memories away. He remembered the most recent talk Kakashi-sensei had given him – about how they were a _team _now, and they had to learn to set aside their differences, work together, and trust one another as completely as if they had always been teammates. _I know he's not who you want, Naruto. I think you'd have a hard time adjusting to anybody, because they're not Sakura and Sasuke, but you have to make an effort. _

…Maybe Kakashi-sensei was right. Naruto stared at their backs. It was true that he wasn't exactly overjoyed about returning to Konoha – there wasn't much to look forward to, any longer – but perhaps there would be no harm in reaching out once more…seeing if Sai wanted to get dinner with him or something. Or he could ask Lee if Sai could join in on their bi-weekly training sessions.

Slightly encouraged, Naruto bounded forward and brought himself level with Kakashi-sensei as he tried to catch up with Sai. He had just opened his mouth to call out to him when Sai stopped abruptly, balancing precariously on a tree branch several meters in front of them. "What is _that_?" he asked bluntly, looking as if he had just smelled something particularly offensive.

The two of them stopped as well, and Kakashi-sensei raised an eyebrow. Naruto looked back and forth around the clearing warily. They were within a few miles of the gates to the village, but there was still a chance that rogue-nin could be roaming in the vicinity. "What?"

Sai wrinkled his nose, taking a step back. "That…chakra. It is coming from within the village, just over the walls and in the area of the training grounds near Hokage Tower. The chakra is oddly monstrous in size and strength. While it is completely unfamiliar – it is, however, a Fire type – it seems to be benign."

Kakashi-sensei frowned, joining Sai. "Monstrous? Fire type? It sounds like you're describing Tsunade-sama—"

Kakashi-sensei stopped dead then, and Naruto noticed him going very, very still. A sense of foreboding swept over him – he still didn't quite trust Sai's judgment on what was _benign _and what wasn't, and Naruto leaped forward, coming to rest on the same branch, as he extended his chakra-sensing capabilities as far as they would go, and—

He almost fell off the branch.

That chakra.

_Impossible, _part of him, a more rational part, sounding like Ero-sensei and Kakashi-sensei all rolled up into one, breathed.

Unmistakable.

Naruto didn't even realize that he had made the conscious decision to move until he was already a mile ahead of the other two. Their voices, calling out to him, were faint, drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his own ears. He was moving faster than he ever had in his life, not even feeling the branches that ripped and tore at his jumpsuit and face; beyond caring about the screaming of his muscles. The closer he got, the more he sensed the chakra, as familiar to him as his own. _Impossible? _No. Somehow, _somehow, _it had to be true…there was no way this could be a coincidence; a mistake… Kakashi-sensei was undoubtedly trying to warn him right now; to tell him it could be a genjutsu, a clever trap used by the Akatsuki to lure him to them, but you know what, _screw it, _if there was even the smallest chance that it was Sakura-chan, it was a chance he was more than willing to take.

Naruto charged ahead for the last several miles until saw the towering walls of the East Gate looming above him. He leaped right over the guard tower in a barely-visible blur of motion, ignoring the yells of the chunin guards. Physical vision seemed pointless, somehow; he was led by the sense of chakra, like one of the Inuzuka's dogs following a scent. And finally, Naruto cleared the trees and found himself in the impossibly vast meadow, in Training Ground Six, where they always cut through on the way to Hokage Tower to report to baa-chan. It was the first time he had stopped since sensing the chakra, and he breathed in and out heavily, disoriented, waiting for his gaze to refocus as he scanned the large area, not daring to hope, his palms clammy with anticipation. He sensed the chakra, but he couldn't see her yet, and then…

There. At the very far end of the meadow, just the tiniest spot of pink and red in the distance, and Naruto felt his heart stop, his breath catching in his throat. He yelled her name with what little breath he had in his lungs, his voice hoarse with joy and disbelief, and he started to move forward again, flying through the grass, his feet pounding the dirt.

But he had underestimated her speed – as he had the last time they had sparred before she had disappeared – and in the next instant, Naruto found himself almost knocked to the ground with the force of her embrace, as Sakura (unmistakably, undoubtedly _Sakura-chan, _no genjutsu, alive and whole and healthy) jumped toward him and threw her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck. She was saying something he couldn't hear over his gasping-for-air-slash-sobbing and her crying, and he wrapped his arms around her, and hugging her back so tightly that her feet left the ground. He spun her around once, holding her close, but he had to put her down when his vision became too blurred with tears to continue, and Naruto felt Sakura's small hands brushing at his face, drying his tears with the gentlest pulses of heat. She smiled at him tentatively, blinking hard herself. "It's okay," she said quietly. "It's okay, Naruto."

And he smiled back at her then, the smile that she remembered from her dreams, the smile that lit up the sky like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Now it is."

They embraced again, her arms locking around his neck and his around her waist, as Sakura turned her head to the side, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Naruto stroked her hair with shaking hands, and they stayed like that for a few long minutes, breathing one another in and letting it all sink in.

But then – Sakura reflected, with a touch of dry humor – the grace period was over, and Naruto drew back, holding her hands and looking at her with more than a little bit of panic. But in all fairness to him, if she was in his position, she would feel exactly the same way. "Sakura-chan – what – what _happened_? Where have you been? We all thought that you were—"

Sakura couldn't face the anguished look in his eyes, and she glanced away, sickened with guilt all over again. The reassuring warmth of his hands against hers – regardless of how readily she had embraced him earlier, she suddenly wanted to pull back. During all the months that Naruto had been mourning her disappearance, she had been…consorting with the man who was plotting his death. She felt polluted; tainted; unworthy of her teammate's touch, and Sakura slowly slid her hands out of his, taking a deep breath. "I was…lost," she said, fighting to keep her composure. "I – I woke up in some rural clinic in Cloud, not remembering anything besides my name. The attending medics told me that some passing traveler passing through the area had found my body shortly after the Cloud kunoichi's attack. He left me at the clinic, and they fixed me up as well as they could. They had healed the stab wound she had left me with, but they told me that my memory loss was due to a severe head injury I had sustained during the fight."

Naruto stared, transfixed. "The whole time…" he whispered, his shoulders slumping. "You were alive! I _told _them! If I had just left like I had wanted to, I would have found you and brought you back—"

"Shh," Sakura soothed, and at seeing his distress, she reached out and patted his arm gingerly. "It ended up all right, Naruto. I worked at that clinic for a while, once my memory of my medical skills began to return to me. Then I started to travel around the area, from town to town, working in local clinics in hopes of triggering some sort of memory of where my home was. Eventually, through my travels, little bits and pieces began to return, and they were vague, but I pieced them together over time – I remembered what Konoha looked like, and shinobi training with you and Sasuke, and my apprenticeship with Tsunade-shishou. I started asking around in the towns that I passed through, for shinobi villages with a Hokage by the name of Tsunade – and I finally got directions back to the Fire Country. I ran into Lee, Tenten, and Neji early this morning, and they escorted me to Hokage Tower. Tsunade-shishou answered all of the questions that I had, and Ino's dad performed a procedure that returned all of my memories."

Part of her marveled at the ease at which the story came out – sounding completely natural, she had told it so many times already – even as Naruto took several deep breaths, obviously trying to process all the information. Lying to his face like that had been even worse than it had been with Ino…knowing that Naruto trusted her completely and unconditionally. He looked absolutely and paradoxically overwhelmed with what appeared to be anguish and joy at the same time, as he raked his fingers through his already-disheveled hair, staring at her. "You've been through so much, Sakura-chan," he said quietly, and she could see his hands trembling slightly with repressed emotion. "I'm sorry for not following my instincts and searching for you. I've failed you as a—"

"Naruto! Don't say that. Please." Sakura tried to smile, softening the impact of her sharp, pained tone. Without knowing it, she had come close to being the bait used to tempt him from the safety of home, into the Akatsuki's clutches. Although he could never know about it, it still touched a nerve. If he had searched for her in Lightning, who knew what would have happened to him? Undoubtedly Itachi and Kisame had been on the lookout for any signs of Naruto… "I'm home now. It's okay."

The look in his sky-blue eyes softened, and he hugged her again, without warning. Sakura tensed up almost imperceptibly, but returned the embrace, hardly able to cope with the feeling of not deserving it. "I'm so happy that you're home, Sakura-chan," Naruto mumbled into her hair. "You have no idea."

Sakura pulled back, smiling up at him affectionately. "Oh, I think I do."

"What is _this_?"

The unfamiliar voice startled her, and she stepped out of Naruto's embrace instinctively. For his part, her oldest teammate's face fell, and he groaned. "Oh, _no. _I forgot about—"

Naruto grudgingly stepped aside, allowing her to see the person who had spoken, and Sakura's breath caught in her throat. Her first, unreasonable, thought was that the strange pale, dark-haired newcomer to the scene looked similar to Sasuke – and, by extension, Itachi – and the mere thought set her nerves on edge with barely repressed panic. It took an effort to keep herself focused, and she glanced towards the familiar warmth of Naruto in an attempt to reassure herself.

"Ah, Sakura-chan," Naruto muttered, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. "This is…this is Sai. He was assigned to our team six months ago, after your… last mission."

Sakura forced herself to meet Sai's curiously blank, non-expressive gaze. To make matters worse, even his posture was similar to Itachi's. "Hello, Sai," she said awkwardly, wondering whether he could tell how uncomfortable he made her. "It's nice to meet you."

Instead of replying to her directly, Sai kept his statue-still position, his gaze shifting to Naruto. "This is the one?"

Naruto nodded, and to Sakura's discomfiture, Sai's gaze flickered over to her again, looking her up and down in a way that made her fight the urge to fidget. "Hmm," he commented, at last, keeping the odd deadpan tone. "…You know, Dickless, she's not even _half _as pretty as you said. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact."

…For the first time since she had learned the truth, all thoughts of Itachi and the truth of the past seven months – all the constant, roiling emotions churning beneath the surface – that had been screaming in her subconscious, fell silent. There were a few seconds of mental crickets chirping, of _did this midriff-shirt wearing weirdo really just say what I thought he said_?, and Sakura became uncomfortably aware that her jaw had literally dropped at the insult.

"…That look is really not helping you…Sakura. Sakura. Can I give you a nickname? I believe that would be appropriate, as we are teammates now."

Sakura closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, this – this – _Sai – _was still staring at her, with his creepily bland expression. Under her scrutiny, he attempted a smile that was even more disturbingly unnatural. She glanced at the abashed-looking Naruto out of the corner of her eye. "You have got to be kidding me," she said, through gritted teeth. "Tell me that this is some kind of sick joke."

"Not at all." The voice that replied was definitely not Naruto's – it came from the wrong direction – and when Sakura whirled to her left, she found herself face-to-face with Kakashi-sensei. Although he was still wearing the stupid mask, his eyes were crinkled in a way that indicated that he was smiling one of his biggest smiles; the type usually reserved for new releases of Icha Icha novels. He reached out, patting her head in the way that he used to do when she was twelve years old; the way that she used to hate, although Sakura forgot to be annoyed now, as she beamed up at him. "Think of it as a present, of sorts. Welcome back, Sakura. There's no need to catch me up, by the way – I was listening to your conversation with Naruto."

"And you decided not to say anything?" Sakura laughed, covering up the sudden pulse of anxiety she felt. Kakashi was an older, seasoned, very experienced shinobi – despite how Tsunade-shishou had assured her that it was a plausible story from a medical standpoint, could he have picked up on anything amiss in her story? Although she knew she could lie flawlessly, as all kunoichi must, her old jounin-sensei had an uncanny ability to see through untruths. "You're just as weird as always, Kakashi-sensei."

"I try," he replied affably.

When Sakura glanced over her shoulder again, she saw Naruto beaming to himself, silently basking in his joy at having Team Kakashi reunited again. Warmed by the sight, she linked her arm through his, looking up at Kakashi-sensei – and also over at Sai, who was observing their interaction with the air of a researcher studying microbes under a microscope. Sakura made an effort to smile at him, trying to make him feel included in the team dynamic. It looked like they were teammates after all – even though she was back now, he had to fill the hole that had been created by Sasuke's departure – so they would have to try to get along with one another.

To her surprise, Sakura felt Naruto tugging on her arm then, before seating himself in the middle of the long grass. He grinned at the three of them, as if this was a perfectly natural and normal thing to do. "Come, you guys! We have a lot to fill Sakura-chan in about!"

"It has been an eventful seven months," Kakashi agreed, joining Naruto. He looked up at her, and Sakura felt her heartbeat accelerate. "I'm sure that Sakura has some interesting stories to tell us as well."

Unsure of how to react, Sakura inclined her head and sat down as well. After a moment of hesitation, Sai joined her. Thankfully, before anybody could ask her any more questions, Naruto immediately launched into a long and spirited tale about some harrowing assassination mission that they had been assigned in the Land of Waves.

They talked for hours, Sakura so engrossed with and enjoying her teammates' company that she was blind to the shifting and lengthening of the shadows as the hours wore on and the sun began to sink in the sky. After being separated from them for so long, she drank in the comforting familiarity of their voices and facial expressions and endearing little idiosyncrasies eagerly (the ridiculously animated faces and hand gestures that Naruto made when he got excited; the oftentimes overly dramatic way that Kakashi-sensei told stories), unable to get enough. Being reunited with them again…it was as much complete, all-encompassing relief as a long, steaming hot bath and foot and back massage after a seventeen-hour shift at the hospital. And it was only when Sakura heard a familiar voice yell her name that she tore her gaze away from Naruto with a start, glancing toward the opposite end of the meadow – at the distinctive figures of Ino, Shikamaru, and Chouji, who were jogging toward them.

The four of them rose to greet Team Ten as they came to a stop in front of them, breathing evenly. Before Sakura could do so much as open her mouth for a greeting, Chouji immediately enveloped her in an embrace, lifting her up off the ground like Naruto had. "I'm so happy that you're alright, Sakura," he said earnestly, but then his brow furrowed with concern as he looked her over. "Although you clearly haven't been getting enough nutrition during your travels. You're practically skin and bones."

"So you guys have been here all day?" Ino asked, poking Naruto in the arm playfully, before looking back at her teammates. "See, I was right to tell Konohamaru, Moegi, Udon, and Team Eight that these three would want to hog Forehead Girl here to themselves for a while…you see, it's not like everybody else that we know wants to see her as well. Lee and Tenten were really worried this morning—"

"Shut up, Ino, they have the right. She's their teammate, after all," Shikamaru spoke up dryly, holding a hand out to Sakura. "It's good to have you back, Sakura. Ino told us everything. Quite a troublesome ordeal that you had to go through."

"I believe that might be the understatement of the year," Kakashi cut in, deadpan.

"Seven months and you still haven't found a new adjective?" Sakura complained, nudging Shikamaru in the ribs. "You sound as monotonous and repetitive as ever."

Ino snickered. "Why would he find a new adjective? You all know that was his first word, right?"

They all shared a laugh at the sour-looking Shikamaru's expense, even Sai, who joined in belatedly – for a few wooden chuckles – after seeing everybody else's reaction. Finally, Chouji looked around at all of them, brightening up visibly. "Ino gave me an idea – how about we have a welcome-back dinner for Sakura? We can host it at my uncle's barbecue restaurant and everybody who didn't see Sakura already can stop by and say hi, it'll be great—"

Naruto bounced up on the balls of his feet, looking tremendously excited. "That's an excellent idea, Chouji, but how about we have it at—"

"Don't even say it," Ino warned. "First of all, Ichiraku's isn't nearly big enough. Furthermore, this is a special occasion! We need to have something classy!"

"Ramen is classy!" Naruto protested indignantly.

"She's right, Naruto," Kakashi said, nodding wisely. "Besides, the very fact that you're protesting means that you've never had Chuuya Akimichi's barbecued pork. Now, _that _is good food."

Chouji swelled with pride, and Ino looked over at Sakura. "So it's settled, then?"

Sakura shrugged, unable to keep herself from smiling. She had never liked being the center of attention, not even for small birthday dinners, but it would be wonderful to have the opportunity to see everybody again, after so long. "I guess so."

Chouji grinned, taking a step back. "Awesome! I'm going to go tell Uncle to get ready – I'll see you all at half past seven!"

Ino waved at him as he ran back in the direction of the village proper, before turning back to the rest of them, a businesslike expression sliding over her face. "Okay then, let's get started," she began, pointing at Naruto and Sai. "You two, go find and inform everybody in our year and Team Gai." She turned to Shikamaru. "You, tell everybody who works in Hokage Tower, and I mean _everybody. _And Kakashi-sensei, if you could extend invitations to any interested jounin, it would be very much appreciated."

Kakashi gave a small half-bow in Ino's direction, looking amused despite himself. "As you wish, Ino-sama."

He vanished in a puff of smoke, and Ino turned on Naruto, Sai, and Shikamaru. "Well, what are you waiting for? We only have two hours! Go!"

Groaning amongst themselves ("Sakura-chan, I wish you were best friends with someone less loud and annoying,") the three boys disappeared as well. Sakura shook her head at her friend, amazed. "Forget working in the interrogations department – you should be Hokage or leader of an ANBU team. You're a natural at barking out orders."

Ino laughed. "Nah, Naruto would spontaneously combust or kill me in my sleep or something."

"You're probably right. Anyway, what are the two of us going to do?"

Ino gave her a nonplussed look, gesturing in the direction of the village as they began to walk. "Isn't it obvious? We have to get ready. Come on, we'll go to my house."

Sakura stopped in her path, an unpleasant realization striking her. Her total sorrow over the devastating news of her parents' absence had completely driven all the…practicalities, so to say, from her mind. Home was no longer the red brick house down the street from Ino's. Her childhood home now likely belonged to some other family entirely – probably with another little girl living in _her _room, another man in _her _father's study, another woman cooking in _her _mother's kitchen. And as for everything in the house…she didn't know whether her parents had taken their possessions along with them, wherever they had gone, or if they had sold the furniture and everything else. But one thing was certain. All of her possessions – including her entire wardrobe and all of the shinobi supplies she hadn't taken on her mission – were surely gone. She told Ino this numbly. It was a trivial thing, compared to the blow of losing her mom and dad, but still…

Ino's eyes shone with sympathy. "You know, what I said earlier still stands. My parents adore you. You can come stay with us – you don't have to be all by yourself."

It was tempting – just as tempting as when Shizune had offered the spare room in the apartment she shared with Genma – but Sakura eventually declined, just as she did then. "I appreciate that, Ino, I really do. But I have to give it a try."

Ino sighed at her friend's stubbornness. "Fine. But if you ever change your mind…"

"I know."

Ino directed an appraising glance at her. "Well, there's an immediate solution to the clothes situation, at least. It looks like we're still the same size, and I have a lot of dresses and stuff beyond the normal kunoichi outfitting. It won't be a problem at all. Mom can sew and do alterations really fast; I'll just have her bring in the chest of whatever you want before we leave for dinner."

"Ino-pig!" Sakura literally felt her face turning red out of mortification.

"What? It's true, Forehead Girl! I'm just trying to be helpful here."

"_Sure _you are."

"Fine, fine, believe what you want. Still, I'll come shopping with you tomorrow, we can get you some new stuff…"

* * *

When Ino and Sakura had arrived at Chuuya Akimichi's famous barbecue restaurant at seven-thirty, Sakura had – first – been stunned to see the way the eatery had been decked out, with such short notice. The inside and outside of the expansive building had been decorated with so many strings of lights and elaborate paper lanterns that it looked like they had stopped by during one of the village's festivals. A mouthwatering smell hung in the air, there was a large sign strung up that declared that for this night only, everything on the menu was all you could eat for half off, and Shikamaru was helping a few of Chouji's cousins put the finishing touches on the open bar.

Chouji appeared at their side, beaming proudly, and huffing somewhat with exertion. "So, what do you think?"

"This is amazing!" Sakura replied, overwhelmed, putting an arm around his waist as Ino enthused as well, admiring a new large ornamental fan that seemed to have been pulled out for the occasion. "But it must have been so much effort—"

"No, no, Uncle was happy to do it!" Chouji protested, before setting out in the direction of the kitchen. "Actually, he wanted to meet you really quickly, before everybody gets here. You come too, Ino, he wanted you to try that new chicken recipe your mom gave him to see if it's as good as hers…"

They stepped into the kitchen, where they were assaulted by smells even more fragrant than the outside. Several cooks chopped and cooked at an impossibly fast pace, and Chouji navigated the area expertly, leading them to a man who was surveying a plate of chicken wings thoughtfully, consulting what appeared to be a recipe book. "Uncle!"

Chuuya turned around quickly, and he beamed upon catching sight of her. He looked very similar to Chouza, his older brother, and Sakura smiled, bowing to him respectfully. "Thank you so much, Akimichi-san…"

Chuuya caught her by the hand and shook her hand earnestly. "No, Sakura. It is an honor to meet you. Your service to our village and the sacrifices that you have made in the line of duty have been truly admirable."

Sakura blushed, embarrassed, while Chouji and Ino grinned at her. Chuuya offered them each a wing to sample, and after much deliberation, Ino pronounced that they had turned out as perfectly as her mother's. Obviously very pleased, he waved them out to join the rest of the party, after declaring that all of them – and Shikamaru – were eating on the house tonight.

They headed out of the kitchen door, stepping into the main body of the restaurant once again, and immediately, Sakura blinked at the sheer force of _sound _– calling _her name _– that hit her. Within a matter of minutes, the place seemed like it had filled up with everybody she knew. Moegi actually tackled her, crying her name joyfully. Lee, Tenten, and Neji sat at the bar, Lee sending her the absolutely love-struck, practically tearful-with-emotion look that she never thought she'd be this happy to see and remember. Further down the bar sat Tsunade-shishou, Jiraiya, Shizune, and Genma ("Now, _that _has to be the best double date ever," Ino whispered mischievously into her ear), who gestured for her to come and join them. Kakashi-sensei was nearby, surrounded by all the other jounin-sensei, as well as Ino and Shikamaru's fathers, and when their gazes met, she saw Kakashi's eyes smile as he lifted a glass to her. Naruto and the rest of Team Eight waved at her enthusiastically from a corner, while Sai looked on, perplexed.

The sight was so overwhelming that it made Sakura's throat close over with emotion, and regardless of the despair she had felt earlier in the day, for now…she was smiling so hard that her face hurt, so overjoyed at seeing them all again, as she stepped forward, more than ready to rejoin her long-lost friends again.

* * *

The party went on until well after midnight, with what seemed like almost all of Konoha's active-duty forces stopping by at some point or another. The mood was festive to the extreme – after all, as Tsunade-shishou told her between shots, these circumstances were utterly unprecedented in their village. It was only at close to one in the morning, after an unaware Kiba had given Lee a drink, and quite a few people had to hurriedly drag him out of the restaurant before disaster struck, that the gathering finally broke up, as many people realized what time it was, and that they had to report for duty the next morning.

Sakura had declined several of her friends' offers to walk her to her new apartment. It was nearby, after all, and Konoha was safe, but she found herself reconsidering the decision just minutes after leaving the restaurant. It would have been pleasant to have Naruto's or Ino's chatter to listen to – just to keep her from being alone in her head, with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company. She had always been quite self-sufficient and comfortable enough with herself in solitude, but then again…she never before had to battle with thoughts and contemplations as disturbing as what she had experienced in Tsunade-shishou's office, and before that, in the examination room.

Her new apartment was on the fourth floor, and she climbed in silence, feeling unsettled by the quiet of the building. As Tsunade-shishou had said, it was designed for visiting shinobi from other villages, and it seemed to be deserted at the moment. For the first time, she found herself unnerved by the shadows and darkness around her. _Get a grip on yourself, Sakura, _her inner voice told her sharply, but there was no real conviction behind it. Even fearless Inner Sakura had been shaken by the discovery of the truth.

After fumbling with her keys for a few moments, Sakura stepped into her new apartment, flicking the lights on and staring around. It took a little while for her to compose herself, keeping her heart rate under control, as she moved from room to room quietly, observing her surroundings. The place was furnished beautifully, elegantly. Expensive artwork on the rich cream-colored walls, dark oak tables, buttery-suede sofas; a downright luxurious bathroom; even marble floors and countertop in the kitchen. It was more than she could have ever afforded with her salary as a chunin – even if she got a promotion to jounin, really. And it gave her no joy at all, because the only thing that she thought as she looked around, taking it all in, was that her mother would have _loved _it, all of it. And even more than that, it wasn't…it wasn't home. It was _empty, _and she was all too conscious of being utterly alone here, without hearing the sounds of her parents' presence. The beauty meant nothing. She would take the rather old-fashioned and battered – often creaky – furniture from home, handed down from her mother's parents, any day. It would at least be a little vestige of familiarity, _some _comfort of home, even in the absence of her parents. Even the loss of the presence of her dad's ancient, faded leather armchair in the corner of the living room made her eyes fill up with tears.

Sakura entered what would be her bedroom last of all. It was as lovely as the rest of the apartment, of course, and she finally, tentatively stepped across to the bed, sinking down on it, pressing her hands down on the finely-made, thick comforter. She stared around, without quite taking anything in. This room more than anywhere else, unnerved her. The loss of the old stuffed animals and quilt her mother had knitted for her, the shelves full of books, the empty closet, the blank walls and desk, with none of the photographs of her parents and Team Seven…

Sakura lay down, numb, fully-dressed on top of the blankets, curling up into a fetal position. All the traces of her life _before _were gone, as eviscerated as her memory had been, and what was left…many aspects of it were so painfully empty. At the party, earlier, Inoichi had taken her aside and quietly told her that he would do whatever he could to gather information from his remarkably large network of informants, in an attempt to try and track her parents down. She appreciated it immensely, but at the same time…it was a large world, to say the least. Her parents could have left the Fire Country, which would make the search a thousand times more difficult. Haruno was also a fairly common family name among civilians. It could take months, years, to find them. If she did at all. And what would happen in that time? Her mother and father weren't nearly as young as most of her friends' parents; they'd had her fairly late in life.

It was only when she felt the material of the blankets soaked beneath her face that Sakura realized how hard she was sobbing, and she curled into herself even tighter, wracked by paroxysms of guilt and sorrow. All of this had happened because of her incompetence, of her injury. That had begun this chain of events, which had been drawn on by Itachi…who had seen fit to keep her for months on end, using her – like a tool, like a _pawn –_ for his own devices. And when he had tired of her, found no use for her any longer, he had left her in the forest outside of Konoha like a discarded, now useless toy. She had done what he needed, right? She had healed him, and he had just left her to cope with the reality of everything that had happened because of her absence…namely, losing the two people that she loved most.

Itachi hadn't killed her parents. But what had happened would have destroyed them, and it came pretty damn close to destroying her, too. He had inflicted _so much _pain that it crushed her to even think about it. And for what? For what reason?

Sakura screwed her eyes shut at the thought of him, flinching like she had been slapped. _Leave it, _Inner Sakura begged. _Don't go there. _But still, through the cover of her eyelashes, she took in the large window; the filmy purple curtains that hardly covered them at all. It would be so easy to slide the glass aside and jump out. She was still dressed; all of her weapons and possessions were still in her summoning scroll…as Itachi had placed them. It was only one transportation ninjutsu and a few miles' travel to the Akatsuki base in Lightning, and then…

Sakura seriously considered it for a long time – considered everything she would do, now that she had full memory and control of all of her capabilities. Maybe some would consider it suicidal, but she was just _aching _to meet Itachi again, now that everything was…as it should be. It was a strange desire, considering that the mere memories of their interactions made her shiver with pure fright now, but it had always been a very personal sort of hatred that she had reserved for him (compared to the Akatsuki members that she knew less about), because of what he had done to Sasuke and Naruto. Now, though, it was even more personal that it had ever been. Everything that he had done to her—

Sakura breathed in deeply, forcing herself to relax her clenched hands. Every part of her was screaming for revenge, for retribution, but common sense won out. For now. She couldn't risk worrying Naruto, Tsunade-shishou, and everybody else, by disappearing after her first day back in Konoha.

Inner Sakura counseled her to sleep. She had repeatedly assured Tsunade-shishou that she would be reporting for work tomorrow, because really, she had _so much _to catch up on. It wouldn't help her to be sleep-deprived and rigid with tension.

Sakura couldn't bring herself to get undressed for bed. The only sleeping clothes she had in her bag were the loose pink t-shirt and plaid pants that she had worn at the Akatsuki base. They had been her pajamas before then, too, before the mission…but she couldn't bring herself to touch them, after all the memories of Itachi pulling them off before the two of them… So she stripped down to her underwear (_tainted, as well, he had once commented that the emerald green suited her eyes, and she had personally thought that this was his favorite set_), and a few minutes after that, the underwear joined her pajamas in a heap, ripped off and flung against the far side of the wall. Everything would need to be replaced.

Which left her in just her body, just her skin (which she had let him touch), and the feeling of being dirty – of being touched, everywhere, by a murderer's hands – was starting to come back again, and Sakura buried her head in her pillow, pulling the blankets over her and trying to slow the speed of her breathing. She couldn't take her skin off. She couldn't get outside of her body. It would be stupid to go and draw a hot bath now, at close to two in the morning. She held the spare pillow to her chest in an iron grip, her muscles tensed, as if preparing for a fight. Though her eyes stayed closed, sleep would not come; her mind racing at what felt like one hundred miles per hour.

Finally, after half an hour had passed, Sakura lifted her head fractionally, drawing a thin sheet of chakra to her hands. It was a misuse of her skills. Shizune had warned her about this repeatedly, saying that many medic-nin had become overly reliant on this technique, which was habit-forming and unhealthy. She'd only done it twice before, mindful of Shizune's warning. But now, to be honest, she was beyond caring. She just needed _peace, _just a few brief hours of peace, to calm herself down; to restore her mental health a little bit. To give herself a break. This was the only way she could get it.

Sakura pressed the sheet of chakra to her forehead, and instantly, she felt her mind and her entire body relax. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

The nightmares started exactly forty-five minutes later.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

:) Hello, everybody! I really apologize for the late update, and hopefully, it won't take me this long to update again – ridiculously difficult summer math classes are no fun at all.

I wanted to leave all of you with a quick thought that I had recently. I'm a giant Harry Potter fan – I started reading the books when they first came out so many years ago, and grew up with Harry. I love that series more than anything else I've ever read and it means a huge amount to me. So naturally, I was at the midnight premiere of the final movie two weeks ago. And right before the movie started, an amusing thought struck me. Itachi and Sakura's son would look _just _like Harry Potter, really. Black hair and very vivid green eyes – and he might even wear glasses, too, if he happened to inherit Itachi's vision problems. (Not to mention, the same awesomely mad skills). I bet everybody in Konoha would remark upon it, too! "You know, young Shusaku, you look exactly like your father, except…" "I've got my mother's eyes, I know."

:D


	13. The Encounter

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was kind enough to review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Thirteen: The Encounter_

* * *

Nine days.

Itachi marked the spot with a neatly drawn X on the calendar, his grip on the pen perfectly steady and sure, one summer morning. Blue ink, to match the eyes of the kitten in the photograph chosen to demarcate this month. It would happen two days before his twenty-second birthday—

What _would _have been his twenty-second birthday, he corrected himself, without missing a beat.

This close to the end, there was nothing left to do but wait – and, on the eighth day, to travel to the location where he knew he would meet Sasuke. He had planned well; he had already put everything in order. And most importantly of all, Sakura (even two and a half weeks later, the mere thought of her was like a stab to the ribs) was safe in Konoha with her friends and family, her memories undoubtedly returned to her by this point.

Itachi took a deep breath, and because there was nobody to witness this moment of weakness, he rested his aching head against the cool surface of the refrigerator and closed his eyes. He knew it was better this way. He had made this decision, when Kisame had offered him that all-too-tempting alternative. But still, now, this close to the end, he longed for Sakura with an intensity beyond anything he had ever experienced before. Selfish as it was, he realized now that the stolen months that they had together hadn't been enough. He wanted to cling onto the solace and love she had offered him and take comfort in it, all the way to the bitter end.

_It is better this way, _a more rational part of his mind told him. Because if Sakura had been here, he would never have had the strength to let go.

Itachi walked out of the kitchen then, and it took all of his self-control not to keep it from entering his mind again. He returned to his bedroom, pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen, and sat on his bed (on sheets and blankets that still carried the faint scent of Sakura's soap and shampoo and skin, even though he had washed them several times). He closed his eyes again and thought about ideas he had never allowed himself to spare time and attention for in the past, and from there, Itachi began to plan out the next eight days in detail.

Over the next week, he followed his planner exactly. On one day, he packed a small picnic lunch and traveled quite some distance until he found a small waterfall and lake. It was very secluded, located in a shady glen, and the water was crystal-clear and cool, a welcome respite from the heat of the day. He floated and swam in the water until his muscles cried out from exhaustion and hunger. Then, after eating his simple meal, he spent a few hours in meditation, sitting cross-legged in the soft green grass, hearing the rush of water over the rocks, the rustle of the leaves in the wind, and the chirping of the birds, while he breathed in the delicate scent of the water lilies that bordered the pond.

The next day, Itachi traveled again; this time, to a village many, many miles away that had been featured in the newspaper, for their delicacy ice cream and sweet shop. It was a small, family-owned establishment, quaintly decorated, and it appeared to sell every dessert known to humanity. It was, in short, the kind of place he had fantasized about, as a child with an incurable sweet tooth, but a very strict father; who often resorted to buying sticks of dango under cover of genjutsu and eating them in secret in the woods. He bought a large mango ice cream cone, two giant, warm chocolate chip cookies, a thick slice of strawberry cheesecake, and two sticks of his favorite hanami dango. He spaced his purchases out so that he could eat dessert for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the first time in his life, and it was every bit as wonderful as he always dreamed it would be.

He climbed a mountain to watch the sun rise. He and Kisame went fishing and had one of their quiet, unofficial competitions to see who could catch more fish with their bare hands, and Kisame won again, like he always did. They roasted the fish together and talked about what they always used to, both of them refusing to think about the fact that they were approaching the end of an era, of sorts, for both of them. And then, for the last time, Itachi slept underneath the beautiful night sky; admired the stars, stared at the glorious silver full moon until his eyes hurt.

It was nothing – nothing special, really. Nothing remarkable, nothing daring or exceptionally out of the ordinary. But it was all enjoyable, every bit of it, and he savored every experience; every second of the process of bidding farewell to this world. And for the most part, Itachi was at peace.

But there were doubts, naturally, as there must be. He hadn't slept through a single night since returning Sakura to Konoha. Every night, invariably, no matter how exhausting the day had been, he would wake up in a cold sweat, trembling from head to toe, his mind racing; overflowing with doubts, with wild alternative plans, with reasons _not _to do it. Firstly, after his death, Sasuke would be fragile and vulnerable, physically and emotionally. His little brother had already proved himself to be very susceptible to the manipulation of others, as had been seen with Orochimaru. Itachi had the dark suspicion that Madara would seek to use Sasuke as a pawn in his plan to destroy Konoha as they knew it, and as much as it pained him to admit it, he could not trust with one hundred percent certainty that Sasuke would be reasoned enough – _loyal _enough – to refuse Madara. For all that they had the most limited direct contact with one another for the past nine years, through secret observation and careful gathering of information, Itachi understood the best and worst of Sasuke. And there was no denying that his brother had inherited a certain amount of their father's ruthlessness and wild hunger for power.

He had already formulated a contingency plan, of sorts, to be used if his most worrisome fears came to fruition after his death. He trusted his potential contact completely and wholeheartedly – he was the one person besides himself, Itachi thought, who cared for Sasuke so deeply. Yet, he still lost hours of sleep to all-consuming anxiety.

Sometimes, on other nights, he would just lie there – awake, but with closed eyes. He would listen to the strong, steady beat of his own healthy heart; marvel at how effortless it was to draw breath after breath through his now-unscarred lungs without struggling and gasping futilely for air. For the first time in his life, he was well; whole inside and out. How many hours of hard work had it taken Sakura to restore him to this? She had kept him unconscious for seven days, and Kisame had told him, later, that she would stay up with him, pouring her chakra into him and correcting what needed to be corrected, for twelve hours every day. Itachi remembered how Sakura had looked on the day he had recovered consciousness – she had lost weight, her skin had taken on a pale, unhealthy tinge, and there had been huge dark circles under her eyes. Even her hair had been less bright than usual, and her chakra had reached dangerously low levels after such sustained use. For the next two days, Sakura had been able to do little more than eat and sleep, and that, only when she was convinced that he was near and safe; often clutching his hand close to her chest. For all that he had regretted what she had done for how it had destroyed his best-laid plans; he had still been amazed by the fact that she had done it at all. All the medic-nin in Konoha who had seen him as a child had told his parents that the progressive disease and the ensuing complications were incurable. It had been a labor of love on Sakura's part, to say the least, and even though Itachi hadn't asked for it – it was still more touching than he could ever say.

And he was about to throw all of it away, and the guilt of it was enough to make him feel sick all over again. He was hardly a superstitious sort of person, but what was it that his mother had always said? _Everything happens for a reason. _He had never dreamed that he would ever be cured, and now he was, and could that possibly be some sort of sign that he was supposed to listen to his instincts and _not _follow through with his plan?

It was in the middle of one of these nights, one of the worse nights, that Itachi left his bed, his eyes red and sore from lack of sleep. It was something that he hadn't done in nine years…not since the night before his final mission as a Konoha shinobi. But there was some old incense and candles in a drawer in the kitchen, and after finding that, it only took a few minutes to create the makeshift altar in the corner of his room. He turned the lights off and propped the framed photograph of his parents on top of a cushion, and placed the cushion on a chair. He lit the candles and the incense and waited until the fragrant smoke filled the air, and it was almost like the shrine in the old compound (_home_). He sunk to his knees in front of the photograph, bending his head, closing his aching eyes, and he spent hours in prayer (or begging for guidance, he was no longer sure when one bled into the other), until his knees were sore, his muscles were horribly stiff, the scent of incense in the air was heavy and overwhelming, and until his eyes hurt even more and his cheeks were wet.

It was difficult to stand, and when he did – noticing that the first rays of sunshine were beginning to rise on the horizon – Itachi found himself unable to stay in the room any longer. His gaze fixated on his parents' and Sasuke's faces all the while, he blew out the candles and the incense hurriedly and left, unsure what he was running from. The room across the hall was the first natural escape, and he slipped inside, looking around, and knowing it had been a mistake. Sakura's room…the room he had never entered before she had come to stay with them; the room that was now just as familiar to him as his own. But it had been stripped bare of the one comfort that he needed and missed and craved – the one that had been on his mind every moment of every day.

Itachi made his way to what had been Sakura's bed, slowly stretching out on it. He turned on his side and let his hands fist in the material of the blankets as he breathed in. He didn't know whether he was imagining it, but he thought her scent still lingered, and for a moment, the memories of the two of them here drove the breath from his body. He closed his eyes briefly. There would be no solace here.

He proceeded downstairs, to the library, on autopilot. It was here that he and Sakura had their first proper conversation, where they had first became friends. It was also the place, aside from both of their bedrooms; that they had shared the most stolen moments since becoming involved. Itachi found the book she had recommended to him on that first occasion without much difficulty. The historical romance about the princess and the samurai lay where Sakura had left it, on her favorite armchair. He lifted it, brushing his fingers against the spine in reminiscence. He had found the concept ridiculous and implausible at first, but as he read on, he had become more and more immersed in the story, staying up until the dawn to finish it.

Itachi opened the book to a random page, searching for something to distract himself from his increasingly troubled thoughts, and he found that the novel was just as captivating as he remembered. The samurai and the princess's forbidden romance, despite the fact that he was a spy from a rival house, placed in her father's court. The samurai's raging internal conflict, as the months passed, and he struggled not to fall in love with the princess; compelling himself not to act on his desires for her, and knowing that he was betraying her family terribly by serving as a double agent and a spy for a rival house. The samurai's eventual downfall, as his iron-clad discipline failed him for the first time, and he slowly, gradually fell completely and irrevocably in love with the princess who had adored him for years. But by that time, it was too late. His lord commanded him to act, and bound by honor and a sense of duty, the samurai did. He disclosed sensitive information that the emperor trusted him with to his lord; an action which led to a coup and the downfall of the imperial family. It was only when the new regime's guards were dragging the princess from her rooms, ready to cast her into the street, that he began to doubt whether this was the honorable thing to do.

The princess called out to him, imploring him to help her, claiming that she knew that the rumors circulating around the palace about his act of betrayal and role as a double agent were not true. But the samurai did not come to her aid, and she fell into such a state of complete shock that she no longer even had the strength to struggle against the guards who pulled her away from everything she knew; out of the palace where she had grown up.

The samurai found her in the streets of a faraway rural province a year later, having searched tirelessly for her as soon as his lord had been established as the new emperor. She had been spared execution, but given a new name and placed in exile. The girl that he knew to always be dressed in rich kimono, her long, thick hair elaborately styled with combs of pearl, ivory, and emerald, was dressed in a worn gray yukata, her hair knotted up in a simple twist and held with a dull, cheap-looking comb. There were a few small smudges of dirt and ash on her face. She served as a priestess of one of the Shinto temples, and when he entered the temple, seeking her out, the former princess recognized him immediately and froze with horror, before running off deeper within the temple. The samurai caught her easily and then apologized for his lies and deceit, begging her for her forgiveness, and for her to allow him to make things right. Over her enraged refusals and accusations of the worst sort of betrayal, he stubbornly maintained that despite his role as a double agent, nothing about his feelings for her had been a lie, and he repeatedly implored her to let him make amends.

Even through his pleas, the samurai knew with a cold, unforgiving sort of certainty that his princess would refuse him again. After so many years, he was well acquainted with her infamously hot temper. But finally, when he at last had no more words to speak, she simply turned her back on him and walked away, and he speechlessly watched her return to the temple again, lighting a stick of incense and sinking to her knees. He waited hours, until after the sun had set, staring out over the pond on the temple grounds. It was only than that the samurai heard the princess join him, placing one hand lightly on his arm. She told him quietly, without preamble, that although what he did was not right, she understood why he had to do it – and that she forgave him for it. And there, in front of the beautiful temple, underneath the night sky, the samurai and the princess shared a passionate embrace, joyful at having reconciled against all odds.

Itachi closed the book, feeling quite numb. He was jolted out of his thoughts by hearing the sound of Kisame's bedroom door opening and closing. Gently, he set the book back on the shelf and entered the kitchen. His partner was there already, beginning to make their customary morning cups of tea, and he glanced over at him in acknowledgement. "Good morning, Itachi." Kisame looked almost as tired as he felt, and Itachi wondered what had been keeping him up at night. "Been up long?"

Itachi inclined his head silently, and Kisame nodded as well, moving to the refrigerator and pulling it open, staring inside contemplatively. "What are your plans for today?" he asked, through a yawn. "The Matsuri festival is going to be celebrated in the larger towns this evening, if you want to go check that out…"

"Sakura," Itachi mumbled.

Kisame straightened so rapidly he nearly banged his head on the inside of the refrigerator. He withdrew without retrieving the eggs he had been searching for, letting the door slam shut. "What?" he asked incredulously. The look on his partner's face let him know that he hadn't misheard, so he continued, without waiting for a reply. After so many years, he knew exactly what Itachi was thinking. "You can't be serious, taking the risk of setting foot in Konoha _this close _to your fight with Sasuke!"

He knew that Kisame was making sense, but Itachi dismissed his partner's protests with a shake of his head. "I have to do it," he replied evenly. "I have to confirm…that she has settled in, that she is well and happy. I cannot leave without…"

He trailed off, but there was some of the old stubbornness in Itachi's face – very similar to the expression he had maintained when he had insisted, so many months ago, that Sakura was _not _beyond saving; that they _would _be bringing her with them and attempting to heal her injuries. No matter how much all of Kisame's instincts screamed that this was a terrible idea, he had no choice but to agree. There was no point arguing, after all. "Fine," Kisame said shortly, before narrowing his eyes at his partner in warning. "But I'm not sure that I can bail you out of Konoha on short notice if you get arrested, so be careful."

"I will be," Itachi agreed, even though his mind was already a million – or, more accurately, three hundred and fifty – miles away.

* * *

_Konoha_

* * *

_I'm not going to start this by calling you-this-whatever__ my dear diary. _

_I don't care if Ino thinks it's perfectly normal to address inanimate objects in such a familiar manner. I think she's just being defensive because I laughed at her for a good ten minutes after finding out that not only does she have a diary and write in it religiously, but her name for it is "Moko-moko-san." It's this monstrosity with a purple velvet cover, rhinestones embedded into the front, and little dancing cartoon animals printed inside the margins of each page. _

…_So, I suppose that I have a lot to be thankful for, that Ino at least picked something tasteful for me. She bought it a couple of weeks ago, two days after I came home, as part of what she called my belated birthday present. It's not ugly, I suppose, this diary. The pages are ruled sensibly, and the cover is a deep, rich plum color. Along the spine there are small, cascading golden flowers. It's actually very pretty, if I'm honest with myself. But it's been sitting on my nightstand since she bought it for me, unopened. I've never been much of a diary person. The thought of writing my thoughts down on paper has never appealed to me – because, you know, what's the point? I think pretty clearly, around generally logical lines. Inner Sakura is always there to help me work through things – it's like having a constant companion and sounding board for any ideas, all in your head. When she was being too immature or irrational, Mom and Dad were always there for me to talk to—_

…_I guess the thing is, I never needed a diary before; never needed an ink-and-paper confidante to whom I could disclose all of my secrets too tremendous to be spoken aloud. But now Mom and Dad are gone, and I can't talk to Ino or Naruto – and I never had secrets before, you know that? Little ones, maybe, like the time when I was fourteen, and I had a bit of a crush on Neji, but then I realized that it was only because he reminded me of what Sasuke could have been, if he had made the right choices. Trivial things like that. _

_Now, though, everything is different. Tsunade-shishou drops little hints once every two days, like clockwork, but I do _not _want to talk – not to her, not to any of the counselors she referred me to. _

_All right. It's not that I don't _want _to talk about it, but that I don't see how I _can_. Every time I even think about it, I feel my throat closing up, I break into a sweat, my heart beats faster – I feel panicked and I want to hide. All the self-hatred comes rushing back and I want to hurt myself for being so incompetent and stupid; for allowing myself to be put in a position where I was so vulnerable. I get even more anxious when I think about how everything could have gone even worse – if Itachi and Kisame had captured Naruto after using me as bait, if they had somehow extracted sensitive information from me – and I feel even more sick. Tsunade-shishou and Shizune and undoubtedly, the counselors, would tell me that this is irrational; that it _wasn't my fault, _but I think that they're just trying to spare me the truth and keep me from feeling even worse. I _healed _him. I saved his life. And so I am responsible for anything that may happen to Naruto or Sasuke, after this._

_It disgusts me. The thoughts run through my head in a never-ending loop, eating away at my mind, every moment that I'm not keeping myself busy with work or training. The last time things were even remotely like this was after Sasuke left. If only I could sleep – if I could get just one night of sleep – I'm sure that things would be a little bit better. I've tried meditation, herbal calming droughts, chakra sedation, pills, alcohol…but none of that is any help with the nightmares. _

_They're such awful dreams, worse than any I've ever had, every time I close my eyes. Sometimes I'm at the Uchiha compound on the night of the killings, standing still, immobilized, watching him do everything that Tsunade-shishou described to me in such detail – moving through the homes of the other clan members like a dark shadow, murdering them quietly and methodically, execution-style. Then I watch, helpless, as defenseless little Sasuke stumbles onto the scene and discovers the whole horrifying truth of it, before Itachi tortures him, over and over again—_

_That's not the worst of it, though. There are other dreams, where we're back in the base, back in my old room. He's running his fingers through my hair, trailing soft, gentle kisses from my lips down my neck and collarbone and chest, and everything is just fine, everything is perfect. And all of a sudden, then one of his hands tightens in my hair so much that it hurts, and he pulls a kunai out from under the pillow and presses the point into my bare ribs, not quite breaking the skin just yet, and I'm _terrified, _but I can't move, no matter how hard I struggle, and he's looking down into my eyes…but he's not the Itachi I know, he's not _my _Itachi anymore, his eyes are blood-red with the light of his bloodline limit, and his features are as cold and hard as they had been when he had stabbed his own mother through the heart. I beg, saying that I thought he loved me, and please please, _please _don't do this – just like his mother must have begged, after seeing her beloved oldest son murder her own husband, and then turn on her with similar intent, but it's no use—_

_I can't even talk – can't even write – about what happens next. _

_I missed the warm, worn, soft carpet in my house at first. It was a nice greenish color. The flooring in this new apartment, even in my bedroom, is polished hardwood. It looks sophisticated, but it makes my feet cold. It is much easier to clean vomit off of, though. I've done it nearly every night after I wake up from that particular dream._

_Ino and Naruto are still offering to either come over or let me stay over at their places. I think they might have noticed that something is a little bit wrong with me, which is not acceptable on my part. I want _so _badly to take them up on that offer, because quite frankly, being alone in this apartment at night makes me so scared I can hardly move, but I can't. Maybe their presence would be calming – but maybe not. I throw up after the worst dreams, and I think I might be screaming into my pillow, because my throat is sore a lot once I wake up, and I cry, sometimes, too…and if they see all that, they'll probably realize that there's more to my story than what I told them when I got back._

_I have to hope that this will pass. I'm doing what I used to do at the base – I try to avoid sleep as much as I can. It gets depressing, though, just sitting up at night with my blankets in the living room, even with the television on. And there, when it's three in the morning, my thoughts start to twist and turn in strange directions. As hard as I try, I can't help but remember everything he told me about Sasuke and his parents, and that wistful, longing, sorrowful tone that he had whenever he talked about them. Why would he have mentioned that to me? He had me wrapped around his finger – he was already playing me like the piano – even without all of that. Why bother trying to convince me, to lie to me, that he loved them? Why did he pretend to open up to me about them, then? There was no reason for it, and even now…even when it seems like I never really knew him at all…Itachi never struck me as the type of person who would do something without a reason. _

_Reason. One of the reasons Tsunade-shishou presumed that Itachi took me captive was to use my capabilities as a medic to his advantage. But I realized, last night while I was sitting up, he never _asked _me to heal him, and he had about a million opportunities. All it would have taken on his part was one little inquiry, one night. _Sakura, I'm not feeling well, would you mind giving me an examination? _But no, he actually, deliberately went out of his way to hide his illness from me. He even believed himself that it was nothing major; he told me several times that it was just a mild case of chronic bronchitis, nothing that could even be healed with the use of medical chakra. The first several times I offered to examine him, he turned me down. As a matter of fact, I would have never healed him if it hadn't been for that freak accident during our fight with Roshi. I also remember now that Kakashi-sensei told us that Itachi, like many members of the Uchiha clan before him, was slowly going blind due to excessive use of the Sharingan. But even if Itachi truly was unaware of the severity of his internal illness, he had to know about his declining eyesight. That is the only other medical problem that he could have required a medic-nin for. And yet, though I made several comments to him about how I thought he had vision problems, he never asked me for an exam. Whenever I offered to take a look at his eyes, he told me to conserve my chakra for our travels. It…doesn't quite add up. _

_Tsunade-shishou also made it a point to mention something else to me two weeks ago, after I first came back to Konoha. Maybe she thought it would help. But she emphasized the results of the physical examination that Shizune performed on me – namely, that in the months that I spent with them, Itachi and Kisame had never hurt me; never so much as used a genjutsu on me in an attempt to extract information. I know shishou found that…strange, to say the least, considering their reputations as the most dangerous, unstable, violent members of the Akatsuki. I think the term Shizune used was that Itachi treated me "as gently as a child with his favorite toy."_

…_His favorite toy. It's not exactly a savory thought, but – I know it's strange, perhaps irrational, even, but on those nights, after those dreams, I find myself taking some comfort in it. One of the worst things after I found out the truth, was the knowledge that the gentle, sweet, kind Itachi I knew and fell in love with…wasn't, at all. That the fact that the man I thought could never hurt a fly – who walked with me into town that rainy night when the poor stray cat showed up at our door, just so we could drop her off at a shelter – was in fact capable of horrific, unimaginable violence…targeted at the most unsuspecting victims. I can't count the times I replayed every single one of our interactions in painstaking detail, feeling sick to my stomach, wondering whether Itachi had ever wanted to hurt _me…_whether the possibility had ever crossed his mind_.

_But even knowing the truth about him, I couldn't remember even the barest hint of – even _questionable _intent, when he was with me. Not a trace. I could say that I'm a fairly good judge of things like that. Intuition, you know. _

_It's a small comfort, to think that even though Itachi manipulated and deceived me in the worst way, lied to me about who I _was, _used me for his own devices, used me for sex…at least, in some small way, _maybe _over the months that passed, he came to care for me, a little. At the very least, he saw something in me that he didn't want to…hurt. He didn't feel the need to make me feel pain, or worse, at his hands. Is that a murderer's sick, twisted definition of caring? Was that what he meant when he told me that he loved me? _

_When I think like this, when I have these doubts, I feel all queasy inside. Like I'm trying to justify or rationalize his actions, even though it's painfully obvious that he doesn't deserve it. It's hard to make sense of it, but even though I hate him so, so much…I'm afraid a small part of me still loves him. Loves the Itachi that I knew, at least. Stockholm syndrome is the term for it, right? I'm not sure. But that's the only explanation for why, even though I spend most of every night having fits of anxiety, there are times – when I'm lying there, trying to get back to sleep, halfway between being asleep and awake – I remember the times that we spent together, in detail; those countless dizzying, exhilarating hours of experimenting behind closed doors, whenever we could get even a little time to ourselves. He was so kind to me. So gentle, so loving. I felt so safe. I remember thinking that it was wonderful, the experience of completely giving myself up to somebody that I trusted so deeply. And…even after everything I know now, the whole painful, terrible truth of it, sometimes – only when I'm half-asleep and half-awake, not thinking clearly, not in my right mind – I still can't help but touch myself when I think of him, and I gasp his name when I arch into my pillows, and that _I love you _is out of my mouth before I even realize what I'm saying. _

_I'm a horrible person. Sometimes I make _myself _sick. _

_And there are no words to describe how grateful I was when Tsunade-shishou called me back into her office yesterday for what she called "a very brief follow-up exam." Well, actually, no – I wasn't grateful first, I was startled when she put her chakra-covered hand on my stomach, and then, shortly afterward, I was downright shocked when she drew back, looking immensely relieved, and informed me that I was not pregnant. _

_I hadn't even known that there had been a possibility that I could have been. I collapsed into her chair and shishou made me drink some sake to calm myself, while she explained that when Shizune had last examined me, it had just been about twelve hours after Itachi and I had last…been together, and it takes up to two weeks to judge whether fertilization has occurred. Apparently shishou had been worried that the trauma of the injury might have thrown off my contraceptive ninjutsu, or that Itachi may have intentionally disrupted it in some way – for whatever reason. If I had known that she and Shizune were worried then, I could have told her that it was him who had been so worried about protection before we…_

_In any case, I felt lightheaded for the rest of the day. I could hardly function. It was a mix of shock, at the knowledge of what could have happened – and sheer, overwhelming gratitude that it didn't. When I came home, later that night, when it finally hit me, I fell to my knees and actually thanked the gods for their mercy. I can't even remember the last time I prayed so hard. All I know is that…ugh, the thought makes me shudder, even now…that it would have been too much to bear, if I _had _been pregnant. Too much to bear, even for me, especially since mom and dad are gone now too. It would have completely broken me, more than I have been broken already. Maybe broken me beyond fixing. I don't know what I would have done. Maybe Tsunade-shishou would have been forced to commit me to the psychiatric ward for my own safety and the safety of the child. I feel constantly sick and ashamed and dirty enough, after everything that's happened. If I had been pregnant, it would have been even worse – not only because then, the whole, ugly truth would eventually have come out to the entire village, but… _

_It just doesn't bear thinking about. I am so incredibly thankful that—_

The utter silence of the lab was suddenly broken by the distant sound of footsteps approaching down the hallway, and Sakura looked up sharply. In an instant, the pen was back on the desk, the diary was shut and sealed; made completely un-openable with a jutsu that could not be dispelled by another person's chakra signature, and she shoved it back into the drawer of her desk and locked the drawer with one quick turn of the key – before turning to the stack of medical status reports that she had finished reviewing almost an hour ago. She had just enough time to prop her chin up in one hand and assume a focused, studious pose by the time the red-faced, winded genin burst into the room.

"Sakura-san," he gasped, before bowing deeply. It was obvious that, having not yet mastered transportation ninjutsu, he had run down the several flights of stairs in Hokage Tower, across the two streets that separated the tower from the hospital, and had then sprinted up the three flights of stairs necessary to access the lab. "Hokage-sama – she requests your presence in her office as soon as you finish up the reports."

Sakura smiled at him gently, gathering up the formidable stack of reports and straightening them. "Thank you, Shotaro. I'll head over there in a minute."

The genin bowed formally again and then exited. Once he had left, Sakura took the reports, stepped out of the lab and locked it behind her, and then turned on the spot, vanishing into thin air. She reappeared a second later in Tsunade's office, and she set the completed reports on her shishou's desk, bowing respectfully.

Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "Very nice. This is the first time that I've seen you execute that technique without even the slightest wobble at the end."

"Thank you, shishou." Sakura felt her heart twist a little. She could transport herself over distances easily, but regaining her balance at the instant of re-materialization had always been an issue. She had stopped falling over within the first week, but her technique had never been as smooth as Kakashi-sensei's or Naruto's. Not until Itachi had taught her how to do it.

Tsunade indicated for her to sit, and the pink-haired kunoichi did, feeling more than a little apprehensive. She immediately thought back to the last lines she had scribbled in her diary, feeling her palms beginning to get cold out of sheer nerves. Had there been some sort of mistake? Was Tsunade-shishou going to have to evaluate her again; had she missed something the first time? It seemed irrational, but—

"You are familiar with the chief natural ingredient used in the latest poison that Shizune's been formulating, correct?"

Sakura blinked, startled by the question, even as she felt the tremendous knot of tension that had formed inside her begin to release. "Aconite, of course," she replied automatically. "Shizune favors it because the poison can be used on blades or other weapons, and it can also be easily and tastelessly dissolved in water or other drinks. It's also quite fast-acting. It's a low-growing herbaceous perennial with carrot-shaped white roots. The plants are often mistaken for their edible cousin."

"Textbook," Tsunade replied dryly. "In any case, ANBU Squad Six is deploying for a mission in three days, and they require a supply of Shizune's poison. However, her stores of aconite were diminished sharply after Kakashi's last solo mission."

Sakura inclined her head in acknowledgement. She often assisted Shizune in procuring the ingredients for her poisons, either by visiting the chemists in nearby Fire Country towns, or harvesting the natural ingredients herself and returning them to the lab. She had taken the last batch of aconite herself – she remembered the deserted forest, a little more than an hour from here, where she found that the best aconite grew. Tsunade-shishou was watching her evenly, though, looking thoughtful. "You, Ino, and Shizune are the only ones who can safely harvest materials like this," she sighed at last. "And you know that Ino's on a mission with her team this week. Shizune is preparing the rest of the poison. I wouldn't ask otherwise—"

Realizing all of a sudden where Tsunade was going with this, Sakura shook her head sharply, disconcerted. Maybe it was irrational, but she couldn't stand the thought that her shishou might now consider her unreliable (emotionally or otherwise) in some way for solo expeditions, because of what had happened on the mission to Cloud. "Shishou, I'm not – I'm not afraid to leave the village for a couple of hours, to go somewhere I've been fifty times before. I can handle it."

Tsunade narrowed her eyes, reading her apprentice's train of thought like an open book. "I am not by any means casting aspersions on your competence, Sakura. I have no doubts about that, I assure you. I just…did not want to place you in a situation you were reluctant to be in."

"It's my duty as a medic-nin, shishou," Sakura said quietly, unable to keep from blushing. How could Tsunade have guessed that, regardless of anything else, the thought of being away from Konoha on her own, brought back so many fears and bad memories? "I would never shy away from that."

Tsunade kept looking at her, seeming faintly unconvinced. "I can assign you an escort—"

Her shishou knew her too well, but Sakura remained stubbornly unmoving. It was tempting for a moment, yes, but she had her pride. "I appreciate the sentiment, but that won't be necessary, shishou."

Tsunade sighed again. "Very well, then. You know what to do with them and how much to bring back. I'll be working late today, so you can stop by when you return. It should be no more than two and a half hours."

Sakura cast a brief glance out the window, at the evening sky. There were no more of her mother's hot dinners to look forward to, at seven forty-five sharp, when she got home. After one final, polite nod to her mentor, she left to gather her special gloves and airtight box from the lab.

* * *

It was mundane, repetitive work, there was no doubt about it – and strenuous, too; after materializing in the forest, Sakura had spent the next hour and a half mostly on her hands and knees, moving through the area and carefully harvesting the choicest specimens of aconite. Her back and limbs ached, but at least the task had kept her mind safely occupied, preventing her thoughts from veering off into any troubling directions.

Sakura sat back, pulling up one last bunch of aconite and holding it up to the orange light of the setting sun, turning it this way and that and inspecting it critically. After several moments, she made up her mind and deposited it in the small airtight box. She surveyed the contents of the box for a minute, and after judging the supply to be adequate, she closed it decisively. Standing was difficult – her muscles had stiffened – but after she straightened, she peeled off her gloves and deposited them into one of her pockets, and then returned the box to her summoning scroll. The pink-haired kunoichi took a deep breath, glancing up at the position of the sun. She hadn't noticed the passage of time, but it was close to setting, and the forest was full of more shadows than orange light now.

It was silly, but the mere thought made the faintest shiver of foreboding run through her spine. In the next instant, Sakura scowled at herself, irritated. What was she afraid of, anyway? She couldn't go on living like this, allowing her emotions to run roughshod over her sense of logic and clear, rational mind. It was the complete antithesis of everything that she was. She was a nervous wreck in her own apartment after night fell, and if she couldn't even keep her composure during a stupid expedition to gather herbs, what did that make her? A pathetic excuse for a kunoichi, that's what. How would she get back into the routine of going on proper missions if she still reacted like this to the most trivial of stimuli?

She forced herself to stay still for another minute, taking another deep breath and trying to think things through. There was nothing to fear. There was no chakra in the vicinity. Even if some random missing-nin showed up right at this instant, she was undoubtedly prepared to face them. What had happened with the Cloud team had shaken her badly; it was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. However, all three of them had possessed highly unique characteristics that combined to form a damn near unbeatable team for _any _opponent. The chances of her encountering a similar situation again were slim to none. And what else was there to be scared of? Itachi?

Sakura bit her lip to stifle a bitter, unexpected laugh. Yeah, right. He was done with her. He had got – whatever he needed – from her, and left her, and moved on to – whatever he was going to do now. Probably to terrorize Sasuke or something similar, and she felt a wave of revulsion wash over her. Motivated by anger, she began to stride forward, trying to clear the forest. _You know what? While I'm here, I'll surprise Shizune and bring back some nightshade as well. _She had seen the stores; she knew that Shizune would need some more in a few weeks. Might as well kill two birds with one stone, right? It would be a nice surprise. This was something the old her would have done without a second thought; without cringing and acting and thinking like a skittish five-year-old, afraid of her own shadow.

The nightshade grew on the other side of the clearing, and Sakura plucked bunches off the vine quickly and decisively, still angry at having to talk herself through the task like this. _There's nothing to be scared about, there's nothing to fear, I am safe, everything is okay. _She repeated the mantra over and over, but instead of calming her, as every minute passed and the sun continued to sink in the sky, she felt more and more on edge. This, in turn, made her feel even more furious at herself, and in an attempt to try and condition her reactions, she forced herself to stay still where she stood, continuing her harvest. It was no use, though. Her skin continued to crawl with foreboding, and her free hand startled to tremble slightly. Her shinobi intuition began to kick in, telling her that she wasn't just being paranoid anymore, and Sakura took a deep, steadying breath.

She was being watched. She couldn't sense any chakra in the area, but that was easily explained – of course the observer, if it was a shinobi, would have enough sense to mask his or her chakra. Maybe she had been being watched for the past several minutes, and had ignored the sensation, having misattributed it to paranoia. The safest course of action would be to use her transportation ninjutsu and return to Konoha right at this instant, before the watcher could take action. But…even though it was risky, theoretically, she wanted to see who it was. More than that, she had to face her fears and reaffirm her competence as a kunoichi.

On impulse, Sakura calmly pocketed her nightshade, drawing massive reserves of chakra to her fists as she did so. Her kunai and shuriken were all within easy reach. Her heart rate remained even as she turned around, facing the other side of the clearing. "I know that you're there," she said, loudly and clearly. "Show yourself."

For several long seconds, there was nothing. No sound, no trace of movement, not even the telltale snap of a twig. It was just long enough for Sakura to doubt the validity of her instinct, and then—

Against his better judgment, Itachi slowly stepped out of the shadows, releasing his concealment genjutsu and appearing directly in Sakura's line of sight. She was several feet away from him, but even with his failing eyesight, he saw the way she froze, as if turned into stone. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating with sheer panic, and he realized, with a sudden, twisting sense of sorrow, that he had never seen anybody – except eight-year-old Sasuke, on the night that he had killed their family – look this afraid of him. The color had drained from her face, and she took a small, unconscious step backward. It couldn't have been more clear how terrified she was, and the thought – the painful contrast to their previous interactions – made Itachi feel more than a little ill. She had never looked at him with anything besides trust and friendship, before. Sakura had regained her memories, that much was clear. And…everything he had feared appeared to have come true. To make matters worse, everything that he wanted to say to set her at ease fled from his mind, and he could manage nothing more than a soft utterance of her name.

It was just out of his mouth when he saw the glint of silver out of the corner of his eye. If it hadn't been close to nightfall, his poor vision would never have picked it up – with dire consequences. Itachi moved without even thinking about it; with the unearthly speed borne out of almost two decades' worth of shinobi experience. If he had been a split second slower, the kunai would have impaled him. He reappeared on another side of the clearing, and the second he focused his gaze again, he noticed the dramatic change in Sakura's demeanor. She faced him, her eyes narrowed and blazing with unmistakable hatred, and although she hadn't lifted a finger – yet – her expression and body language made Itachi feel like he had been stabbed through the ribs. Her posture was combative and she looked absolutely incensed.

"What do you want?" she asked, and though her voice trembled, it was still scathing, brimming with anger and sarcasm. "Haven't you done enough?"

Her obvious distrust and hatred was unsettling enough, but Itachi felt a quite unrelated shiver of foreboding run through his spine, setting his nerves on edge. The two of them had met under highly unusual circumstances. He had always known on a rational level that Sakura was a formidable opponent, one of Konoha's best. She was an A-ranked kunoichi who had succeeded in killing one of the Akatsuki's most dangerous members. Though she had spent her time with them primarily utilizing her talents as a medic-nin, he had always been able to sense the tremendous strength of her chakra, simmering beneath the surface. Her chakra-enhanced strength could be lethal, and as Tsunade's apprentice, she had mastered hundreds of rare and deadly medical ninjutsu. He had _known_ this, but the weight of the realization had never sunk as deep as it did now. Seeing Sakura (the girl he loved, who was squeamish about cleaning raw fish, who adored the theater, who sometimes insisted on feeding him breakfast as an expression of her love) like this for the first time – as an enemy combatant who fully intended to do him harm – was more emotionally disturbing than he had expected. And…perhaps, much more dangerous than he had anticipated.

Itachi watched her quietly as she glared at him, obviously struggling to keep her temper under control. For his part, he felt his insides clench up into a hard, cold knot. He had always been exceptionally talented at reading people. It was a valuable talent to have, but an exhausting one. It was why, after all of his encounters with Sasuke, he was filled with a deep, pervasive sense of sorrow that took days to shake. Just like with Sasuke, he could easily see that Sakura's rage was born out of hurt and pain and heartbreak and a terrible, terrible sense of betrayal, and – although it was irrational, although he knew that she probably wanted him dead, all that Itachi wanted in that instant was to reach out to her and console her; do or say something, _anything,_ to alleviate her anguish. It was a struggle to find words that would be adequate, but Itachi finally, slowly spoke up, willing her to understand the desperate emotion behind them. "I never meant to hurt you, Sakura."

Sakura flinched back as if he had slapped her. "What?" she spat disbelievingly. "You never meant to – you lied to me about who and what I _was_, for seven months! I – I _trusted_ you, and you lied to me about _everything_! You held me under false pretenses, you manipulated me into cooperating with your sick, _sick_ plan for capturing the tailed beasts, you told me…you told me…"

She trailed off, looking even more enraged than she had before, but at the same time, perversely enough, like she was in danger of bursting into tears. Their gazes met, and as they had done a million times before, that was all it took for both to understand exactly what the other was thinking. And Itachi knew, with as much certainty as if Sakura had said it aloud, that she was remembering the lies he told her about his parents and Sasuke. Her eyes hardened again, blazing with fury, and he could sense aanother outburst coming. "You never meant to hurt me? Like you never meant to hurt the parents and family and little brother that you told me you _loved_ so much?" Her eyes narrowed vindictively. "Oh, wait, you said you loved me too, and we know how much _that_ counts."

Itachi felt all the muscles in his body tense up, but before he could speak, Sakura continued, clearly beyond controlling herself. She was beside herself with fury that felt like it was in danger of burning her up from the inside out; she couldn't even _see_ him clearly; she was so incensed that her vision seemed to bleed red at the edges. She didn't dare to attack yet, but all she wanted to do was lash out at him in every way that she could, so that she could make him feel just a little bit – just a _fraction_ – of the agony and torment that had been eating at her since she had discovered the truth.

"You coerced me into having sex with you!" she yelled, so loudly that her voice echoed in the darkening clearing, and the birds in the trees above them took to the sky hurriedly, and she took satisfaction in the way Itachi looked at those words – like she had just physically attacked him. She took a step forward, pointing at him, and it was like a malediction. "Are you so fucked up that it got you off, taking advantage of the fact that my memory was gone? Did it amuse you to think that under _normal_ circumstances, I was the one – the _one_ person – who would have fought you until my very last breath for everything that you've done to Naruto and Sasuke? I _hate _you – if I had been in my right mind, I would have _died_ rather than letting you do what you did – but I'm sure you found it very amusing that instead, I was happily and willingly serving you as your personal sex toy! Did you enjoy the irony?"

Itachi flinched back from the verbal onslaught, and it wasn't until his back collided with the rough tree trunk that he realized he had literally retreated under the terrible condemnation of the words. This couldn't be real. It was a scene from one of his worst nightmares. It was uncharacteristic of him, but his chest felt tight with panic, because he had never intended for her to feel this; had never dreamed that this was what she would think of him. He didn't think that it would be_ hurting_ her. And even though Sakura had literally screamed the last several sentences at him, until her raw voice had broken under the strain – now, she was crying in earnest, wrapping her arms around herself, unable to keep her emotions under control any longer. It was one of the most heartbreaking things he had ever seen. "Sakura," he said, quietly, urgently, imploring her as he never had anybody before. "Sakura, please listen to me."

Sakura shook her head vehemently and stepped away from him again, wiping at her tears angrily. "No! You even – you even took my parents away from me! My only family! When – when you took me, Konoha couldn't find my body and they assumed that I was dead, and when Tsunade-shishou told my mom and dad, they left because it was too much to bear – because it broke their hearts – and now I have no idea where they are!" She stopped, desperately gasping for breath. "Not like it matters to you, but they're gone, and I don't know if I'll ever find them again!"

Every word was like a blow, and Sakura glared at him with such condemnation that Itachi acted without thinking. Everything that he had planned to say to her – the speech he had prepared on the way over here – had flown out of his mind by now. He just knew, with an intensity so sharp that it was painful, that he _had_ to make things right again, if it was the last thing he did.

It was just two hand seals, executed with such speed that Sakura couldn't see them coming. She gasped with horror as vines of ice erupted from the ground, snaking along her legs and waist and holding her in place. She struggled to no avail, and Itachi took a step forward. "I apologize," he whispered, around the tightness in his throat. The sheer degree of the remorse he felt made it difficult for him to think straight. She looked up at him reluctantly, and he held her gaze. She couldn't doubt his sincerity, could he? "Sakura, I apologize for…every moment of pain that I put you through. I never, ever intended to hurt you. I did only what I thought was right. I did the only thing that I could have done. I—"

Itachi stopped abruptly, disconcerted at how close he had come to confessing the whole sordid truth – the_ real _truth – out to her in a rush. Sakura took advantage of his moment of distraction to form another couple of hand seals, and the vines of ice shattered. She retreated, giving him a look of pure loathing. "No. You lied to me, Itachi. Everything that came out of your mouth was a lie. Just like you deceived Konoha and your poor family into thinking that you were a dutiful, honorable shinobi."

_No, no, no._ This was all going horribly wrong. Sakura did believe what he had feared, and Itachi struggled to breathe in properly. She had to understand - he had to assure her that, while everything else might have been a lie – he _had_ loved her. He _did_ love her. He couldn't go to his death, allowing her to continue feeling this way. "Sakura, I—"

Sakura attacked him with a medical ninjutsu then, without warning, and Itachi dodged at the last second, having just deciphered the first hand seal in time. He felt the rush of chakra as it missed him by an inch, and he realized, heartsick, that she had aimed to kill. She stared at him now, looking coldly furious, the tear tracks clearly visible on her pale, drawn face. "I don't want to hear any more of your lies. I think that you've fucked me up enough for a lifetime."

Before the words were even completely out of her mouth, she attacked him again. She moved with astonishing, unexpected speed, throwing another medical ninjutsu, two kunai, and several chakra-enhanced blows that could have easily ruptured organs. Itachi evaded each attack, careful not to harm her, and finally, as a last resort, he threw up a shield ninjutsu that repelled one of Sakura's punches with such force that it flung her several feet back, until she collided with a tree. She crumpled like a rag doll, lying motionless on the forest floor with her back to him, and Itachi felt his blood run cold with horror. He dispelled the shield ninjutsu and bridged the distance between them in an instant, but then, before he could check on her properly—

He felt himself freeze like a statue, all of his muscles and bones – every nerve in his body – becoming as rigid, still, and unmoving as stone, no matter how much he ordered them to move. He was paralyzed, he realized, with a sense of dawning horror. Trapped, unable to do anything more than breathe, and even that was a struggle. The only thing he could move was his eyes, and Itachi watched, helpless, as Sakura rose from her prone position. "A little trick I learned from the Cloud kunoichi who defeated me," she commented, almost casually. She pulled out a kunai from the holster around her thigh, observing the blade, and Itachi could do nothing but stare at her, silently imploring. The Godaime had trained her apprentice well; he found that her chakra was too strong to break.

Sakura lifted the kunai to his throat, pressing the point into the skin underneath his chin. Their gazes met, and Sakura's eyes filled up with tears – of anger or sorrow, he couldn't tell which. She looked unstable and desperately hurt, still, and even though Itachi found himself at her mercy in a way he had never dreamed – if the paralysis ninjutsu broke in this instant, all he wanted to do was not to flee, but to gather her up in his arms and soothe her until the pain went away, damn the consequences. But he could do nothing but watch her as calmly as he could, feeling the blade press into the artery near his neck with every breath he took. For some reason, Itachi felt strangely calm. He could, theoretically, die in a matter of moments. He should have been in a state of panic that what Kisame had warned him about would soon come to pass, and that his plan for his final confrontation with Sasuke was this close to unraveling, mere days away from completion. All he could think about, though, was if his death at her hands was inescapable, and if this was what would bring Sakura peace and enable her to heal and move on – so be it. He couldn't bear the thought of her continuing to live like this, consumed with sorrow and pain.

But Sakura did not move. Her muscles didn't tense in the manner that indicated she was about to execute the lethal strike. She kept looking into his eyes steadily, the expression in her eyes deadly serious. When she finally spoke, her voice wavered somewhat, though the words were no less deliberately weighed for that. "I hope that Sasuke finds you soon, Uchiha. I hope he finds you and kills you, because after all that you've done, you deserve to die at his hands. And I can assure you that it will be the happiest day of my life."

Before Itachi could respond – before he could even fully process her words – Sakura was already bounding off into the darkness of the forest. In another second, she disappeared from his line of sight entirely.

It took another several minutes, by which time he was sure that she had safely transported herself back to Konoha, for the paralysis ninjutsu she had used on him to release. Even when it did, Itachi couldn't bring himself to move. Thinking itself was too painful. He simply leaned back against the tree, feeling more weary than he ever had in his entire life. Sakura's words – the expression in her eyes, the utter hatred with which she had regarded him – echoed in his mind, relentlessly, mercilessly. His shoulders slumped, and he bowed his head miserably, unable to believe that it had all come to this.

He tried to keep it at bay; he fought hard, but it was no use. Itachi's throat closed over then, and there, in the forest, under cover of darkness, for the first time in nine years – he allowed himself to give in to the tears that he had kept suppressed for so long.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

I seriously, seriously apologize for the abnormally long wait for this chapter. Real life has been very "troublesome," to borrow Shikamaru's favorite vocabulary word, and this chapter was also difficult to write because of the interactions between Itachi and Sakura. It's hard to make them hurt like this. I know it's tough, but I implore readers not to hate Sakura, even after everything that transpired in this chapter. She has been through a terrible ordeal and a lot of stress since regaining her memories, and we all make errors in judgment about people.

Also, regarding my author's note in the last chapter - I so did not intend my comment about Shusaku, the Harry Potter lookalike ItaSaku spawn, to be a spoiler for this story; it was pure coincidence. :P I know a lot of people may be disappointed about Sakura not being pregnant here. I considered going there, but it wasn't in the ultimate path for this fic. I've totally left pregnancy false alarms in Before The Dawn, to some extent in Lost And Found, and now very much so in Bluebird. However, I couldn't bring myself to do it in any of these stories, because Sakura already had so much of an emotional struggle to go through. But I do promise that I will address this plotline in the future…and it will be given a fic of its own. So yes, Shusaku will eventually make an appearance. :)

Lastly (oh my goodness, this is a long author's note), I would like to direct all of you to my profile. The talented **Komo Pineconeseed** has made an absolutely hilarious illustration of a scene from Bluebird. Check it out, it's amazing!

As always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. Thank you for reading, and I love hearing what you have to say. :)


	14. The Hunt

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was sweet enough to review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Fourteen: The Hunt_

* * *

It was a fairly simple matter to use chakra to siphon the juice out of the leaves of the nightshade and into the twenty delicate glass vials. Things only got complicated after that. Measure out the proper concentrations of ricin? _Check. _Add the tetrodotoxin – extracted from a rare specimen of puffer fish – but only five micrograms per vial, introduced at one-minute increments? _Check_. Stir twenty times, ten clockwise and ten counter-clockwise. _Check. _

Though she had done this at least fifteen times before, Sakura mentally walked herself through the necessary steps in her typical pedantic fashion. When she had first begun studying the art of poison with Shizune, it had bored her to tears. Her senior apprentice had assured her that it would grow on her, and though she had been skeptical at the time, Shizune had been right; it had. It was a fascinating process, and though it was often very complicated, that was a good thing. The extraordinary attention to detail that it required was enough to keep her focused…most of the time.

Sakura sunk down onto her chair, narrowing her eyes with concentration as she poured the formulation into the new set of vials. She observed it carefully, tilting her head to the side. Once the liquid acquired a faint purplish tinge, it would need to be mixed again. She sighed quietly, removing her protective eyewear, and as she stared at the lethal neurotoxin developing before her, her attention began to wander, her gaze becoming slightly unfocused. Her mind immediately flashed back to what it always did…to the encounter with Itachi a few days ago; the one that had been eating at her mind endlessly, day and night. _"Listen to me,_" he had asked – no, _begged _her. _"Please, Sakura, I—"_

She had cut him off every time, blinded with rage, hating the sound of his voice for the torrent of memories and emotions it had brought rushing back. She had been afraid of the words that would come out of his mouth – certain that they would be more lies, which would leave her even more confused and uncertain than she was already. And yet…

Sakura closed her eyes, all the breath leaving her body in a long exhalation. And yet, now – well, as soon as the night after the encounter, when she had spent the entire night lying awake, her mind racing at a thousand miles an hour – she found herself consumed with curiosity about what Itachi had been trying to say; about what he had been so intent on communicating to her. The expression in his eyes had been so desperate. She had never seen him look like that before.

The pink-haired kunoichi blinked at the poison in the vials, her lips twisting bitterly. But that was the thing. She couldn't trust him. She had been mistaken to trust him in the first place. That much had been proved already. Hadn't he appeared so honest and trustworthy, when he had lied to her about who she _was, _in the aftermath of her head injury? When he had spun her that story about his family alive and living happily in Rain? _And yet_, her mind whispered again… "_I never meant to hurt you, Sakura." _His voice, heavy with regret, echoed in her memory, and Sakura shivered, running her hands over the goosebumps on her arms. Itachi had seemed so – so tormented with guilt and remorse – and even as that thought occurred to her, she recalled Tsunade-shishou telling her, when she had revealed the truth, that Itachi had never displayed or expressed any remorse or guilt for murdering his family. If that was the case, that he could do something so terrible without compunction, why would he ever feel sorry for lying to her?

But then she remembered the way his voice had sounded whenever he had spoken of his family. The melancholy that had laced his words every time. He had told her that he loved them; that he missed them…that he was going to be reunited with them, very soon. Sakura shuddered. The words took on an eerie quality, now that she knew that the moldering remains of his entire family, save for Sasuke, lay six feet under the ground behind the deserted Uchiha Compound. What did all of it mean? Why had he come all the way to the Fire Country to seek her out? Why did he say all of that to her? Nothing was adding up, and she hated it.

Sakura shifted in her chair uncomfortably, remembering the theory that Shizune had voiced; the one that she had toyed with and speculated about countless times. Had Itachi come to care for her, somehow? It seemed inconceivable, considering the person that he was…and all that he had done. _Wishful thinking_, Inner Sakura accused her sharply. _But that would explain a lot_, Sakura countered to herself. She felt her nerves crawl. Like how Itachi had looked after she had screamed at him in the height of her anger that night…after she had said all of those things…

She swallowed over her suddenly dry throat. Before Inner Sakura could reply to that, the lab door banged open, and Naruto burst in, greeting her cheerfully. "Hey hey hey, Sakura-chan!"

Sakura grabbed the edge of the table, startled nearly out of her skin. She spared a moment for overwhelming gratitude that she had finished writing in her diary an hour ago, and had locked it back into her desk. "Naruto! Hasn't Tsunade-shishou told you a million times to knock before barging into rooms? Especially the lab, I could have been working on something combustive—"

Naruto gave her a winning smile, unfazed. "Nah, you're just being jumpy, Sakura-chan." He threw a dubious look around the dimly lit lab. "Don't blame you, really, this place is definitely creepy. Funny you should mention baa-chan, though. Kakashi-sensei said she wanted to see us in her office right now for some super top secret important thing." He bounced up on the balls of his feet, looking tremendously excited. "It's probably another A or S-ranked mission! It's been a while since our last one, huh?"

Sakura raised an eyebrow as she began to stir the now-purple vials of poison. She remembered it like it was yesterday. The last time Tsunade-shishou had summoned the three of them for a "super top secret important thing," as Naruto had put it…it had been the mission to rescue Gaara from the clutches of the Akatsuki. That was the mission that she had come up against the shinobi world's most dangerous, infamous criminal organization for the first time. When she had met Chiyo-sama and they had fought for their lives against her own grandson. When she had made a name for herself after killing Sasori. And…the first time she had ever seen Itachi, when that projection of his had confronted them on their way to the place Gaara was being held.

For the first time, Sakura was glad of the fact that her hair had grown out a few inches in her absence from Konoha. It swung over her face as she stored the vials of poison for Shizune to finish work on, hiding her expression from Naruto. She joined him once she had finished, and despite her recent thoughts, she smiled reluctantly. "Don't stick your faces so close to those petri dishes," she warned. "That's _staphylococcus aureus_; it can give you flesh-eating pneumonia."

Naruto hastily jumped back, although a slightly mischievous expression came over his face as they left the lab, locking the door behind them. "Maybe I should stick some in Sai's breakfast then, that would be a laugh—"

Sakura giggled, despite herself. "Don't even say that, it's so awful."

Naruto grinned. "Anything to make you smile, Sakura-chan." He gave her a furtive look out of the corner of his eye as they walked. "You've just seemed…kind of down, lately. I know it must be hard, with your mom and dad gone." He stuck his hands in his pockets, turning red. "I know…it's not the same, our situations. I don't even remember mine. But if you ever want to talk…"

Touched, Sakura put a hand on his arm, feeling a stab of guilt over keeping the truth from him. "Thanks, Naruto."

He smiled at her and opened the door to Tsunade-shishou's office, but when they stepped in, Sakura was momentarily surprised at the number of people inside. It wasn't just her team – Naruto and Kakashi-sensei (Sai was nowhere to be found) – but Jiraiya, Yamato, and Team Eight as well. Kurenai gave them a small smile of greeting, which Sakura returned, hiding her confusion at Team Eight's presence. Kakashi-sensei, Yamato-sensei, Naruto, Kurenai, Kiba, Shino, Hinata, herself…an eight-man team? She had never heard of such a large deployment for an A or S-ranked mission. The general upper limit for this type of mission was three. Team Eight was renowned as Konoha's best tracking team, and Sakura felt her muscles stiffen out of foreboding. Gaara was safe. Naruto, obviously, was safe. Had the Akatsuki moved for another jinchiruuki already?

She glanced toward her shishou curiously, and Tsunade inclined her head, standing up as well. "Excellent, you're all here," she commented briskly. She paused, looking back and forth at the group of eight before her, and then back at Jiraiya. "…I brought you here today in response to some critical intelligence that has been brought to our attention by Jiraiya's most trusted sources." She took a deep breath. Sakura could see Naruto shifting from foot to foot impatiently, and she felt a more urgent sense of curiosity stir within her. Tsunade-shishou was normally more direct than this. She started to speak then, and the pink-haired kunoichi held her breath.

"…Orochimaru is dead, killed by Sasuke Uchiha during a confrontation in their base at Sound. From what we have heard, Orochimaru intended to use Sasuke as his new host body, and Sasuke fought him off and defeated him."

Sakura heard Kiba and Shino's quick intakes of breath, and Hinata's muffled gasp. Kurenai's eyes widened, and even Kakashi-sensei stood up a little bit straighter from where he had been leaning casually against the opposite wall. Sakura closed her eyes, unable to believe it, struggling to come to terms with the emotion that swept over her with surprising strength. For so long – every day since Sasuke had deserted Konoha – she had feared, with the dawn of each new morning, that _this_ would be the day that Tsunade-shishou would summon her and Naruto up to her office, and solemnly inform them that Sasuke had allowed Orochimaru to take possession of his body, melding the two of them into one. One horrifying, nightmarish creature. Sasuke's body, but irreparably tainted. Every morning, she had feared that this would be the day Tsunade-shishou would tell them that she was sorry, but there was no hope any longer, and Sasuke-Orochimaru would have to be hunted down and destroyed immediately. Although a small, vocal part of her still naively clung onto the belief that it couldn't happen, over the years of her apprenticeship with Tsunade-shishou, she had heard about the full, terrifying extent of Orochimaru's power. She had mourned the loss of Sasuke then. Although she had felt terribly guilty over it and would never dare confess it to Naruto, she had _resigned _herself to the fact.

Sakura actually felt tears stinging at the backs of her eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to remember Sasuke as she had known him. When he had fought Zabuza in the Land of Waves; his combat matches in the chunin exams. He had been fiercely, unbelievably powerful, even as a twelve-year-old genin. But still, who could have guessed that he would be the one to defeat one of the world's most powerful and evil shinobi? She had been disgusted at the fact that Sasuke was, at one time, willing to allow Orochimaru possession of his body in exchange for power and revenge against Itachi. That hadn't been the proud, independent, _honorable _Sasuke that she knew. For the first time in years, now, she was proud of him. If he had made the right decision then…did this mean he had experienced some kind of change of heart? Would he return to Konoha now?

Sakura and Naruto turned toward one another at the same instant. "Wait, so does that mean he's coming back now?" Naruto demanded, the words running into each other with the speed of his speech. "Ero-sensei? What does your intelligence say? Is he on his way back to Konoha right now?"

The hope in his voice was painful to hear, and despite her own high hopes, Sakura predicted Jiraiya's response before the older shinobi even shook his head slowly, looking older than his years. "Not exactly, kid. _If_ Sasuke wants to return to Konoha at all…there's something that he'll want to do first."

Several moments of silence followed the statement, and Sakura felt a hand of ice clutch at her heart. She knew, perhaps better than anybody. Of course. _I hope that Sasuke finds you soon, Uchiha. I hope he finds you and kills you, because after all that you've done, you deserve to die at his hands._

"He wants to kill Itachi," Kakashi-sensei said flatly. "He wants to avenge his clan."

"Exactly," Tsunade acknowledged. She folded her arms. "It is high time that the younger Uchiha returns to Konoha. Better now than later, before he can get tangled up with any other unsavory individuals and cause the village even more trouble. Considering his recent activity, if he returns now, the council may very well pardon him for his crimes. We've wanted Orochimaru dead for over a decade. The question I pose to you is – logically, what would be the easiest way for us to track down Sasuke?"

"Find Itachi," Kiba responded immediately. "Sasuke will be where, or near, he is. Are we going to beat Sasuke to the punch and kill the bastard? Two birds with one stone?"

Kurenai smirked for a moment, before re-schooling her expression into its typical calm one. "Quiet, Kiba."

"Not quite," Tsunade replied, and Sakura wondered if she imagined the half-glance her shishou threw at her. "Not quite. Killing Itachi first will make finding Sasuke impossible. We need to capture Itachi. If Sasuke comes to know that we have Itachi, he'll come right to us – and I bet he'll acquiesce to any of our terms, as well."

"And who better to help us do this than the best tracking team in Konoha?" Yamato asked, with a nod to Team Eight.

"Exactly," Tsunade said grimly. "Jiraiya's sources have confirmed that Itachi is currently in the northern region of the Fire Country, and Sasuke is likely close by as well. The eight of you will leave tomorrow at sunrise. Time is of the essence, we have three days at the very most. Find and subdue Itachi. Whatever you do, _take him alive. _Then wait, in the open, for Sasuke to come to you. An unconscious and restrained Itachi will not be able to mask his chakra signature. Within the day, you'll have Sasuke. Return both of them to Konoha."

It was a struggle for Sakura to maintain the proper heart rate and breathing rhythm. However, it was some reassurance to glance around at the others in the room – any irregularity in her own appearance would be attributed to nerves. Though Kakashi, Yamato, and Kurenai kept their expressions calm, there was worry in their eyes and tension in their shoulders already. Kiba, Shino, and Hinata were all as pale as chalk. Sakura understood their dread. They had just been given orders to pursue Konoha's most dangerous missing-nin…somebody unparalleled in skill and ruthlessness.

Predictably enough, though, Naruto shook any apprehension or fear off faster than anybody else. He nodded resolutely, his gaze boring into Tsunade's. "It's as good as done, baa-chan. We'll be back here, this time two days from now, with both of them. I promise."

Sakura gritted her teeth, disturbed. This was too much, too soon, for her mind to handle. Sasuke's escape from Orochimaru, his potential return to Konoha…seeing _Itachi _again…he would never allow them to subdue him…and even if they did…bringing him back to Konoha, as well, as a prisoner? The thought of being near him as they returned him to Konoha, in the company of Sasuke and her other teammates…it would be a sick collision of two worlds; the secret lie of a life she had led for seven months, and her real life, here… She shied away from the thought of having him _here, _in her safe place. It seemed surreal, something out of a nightmare. They would hold Itachi in this very tower, in the basement of the Torture and Interrogations Department. And then what? After a perfunctory trial, he would be executed for his crimes, of course. Would they allow Sasuke to do it? She was sure that it would be a key stipulation in any agreement that he made to return.

Sakura closed her eyes, feeling the world spin beneath her feet. She felt a strange, clawing sense of claustrophobia and panic inside her chest, threatening to make her sick. When she opened her eyes again, thankfully, nobody seemed to have noticed her lapse. Tsunade had handed out mission scrolls to each of them, and she had accepted hers without even being conscious of it. The light rice paper scroll felt impossibly heavy in her hand.

"You have the rest of the day to prepare yourselves, and you will meet at sunrise tomorrow outside of the East Gate," Tsunade announced. "You are all dismissed…except you, Sakura. I want to hear your report on the surgery that you performed yesterday."

She hadn't performed any surgeries yesterday, but Sakura courteously acquiesced without missing a beat. Around her, everybody else filed out after bowing to the Hokage respectfully, and even after the door closed behind the last of them, Tsunade remained silent until all sound of their footsteps down the stairs and all traces of their chakra had vanished. Then she leveled Sakura with a very serious look, one that made a little shiver go down her spine. "Sit," she ordered, gesturing to the nearest chair.

Sakura sat, feeling rather apprehensive. Tsunade regarded her thoughtfully. "Can I assign you to this mission, Sakura?" she asked quietly, before forestalling Sakura's reply by holding up a hand. Her gaze bored into her apprentice's. "I thought long and hard before putting you down for the roster. Ultimately, it was the need for the most talented medic-nin I could spare – just in case – that convinced me that you had to go."

"Shishou, I—"

"No interruptions, Sakura. Listen to me." Tsunade lifted her pen, indicating Sakura with it and looking even more grimly serious. "Necessity demands you go. But I am telling you – no, I am _ordering _you, as your Hokage, not to do anything stupid. I will _not _have you endangering yourself. If you even _think _of running off after Itachi and attempting to fight him on your own – if you even put one _toe _out of line – I can and will remove you from the active duty mission roster for one year. One year of picking up shifts for the nurses and confinement to hospital duty, Sakura. I understand that the thought of exacting retribution of some sort may be tempting for you. But every time you feel even a _little _tempted, remember what I have just told you."

Sakura could see from the expression on her mentor's face and the tone of her voice that she was deadly serious. She inclined her head obediently. "Yes, Tsunade-shishou."

Tsunade observed her carefully, for several moments. After determining that she was to be trusted, she inclined her head, her expression softening slightly, and Sakura realized that maybe her earlier lapse hadn't gone unnoticed after all. "Are you going to be all right?"

She met Tsunade's gaze evenly. "I will do my duty as a Konoha shinobi, shishou."

Brave words. Tsunade-shishou told her, then, that when all of this was over, she intended to recommend Sakura for the next cycle of the jounin exams. _It's not too soon, Sakura, _she had said, over her protestations. _You've been a chunin for three years. You're one of the strongest shinobi in the village, and you've served Konoha with incredible courage and devotion. You've put completion of a mission over your own life. You're ready._

Sakura went to her empty apartment (_still _not home), after a subdued ramen dinner with Naruto. She sat on the sofa and unfolded the mission scroll, which was tied with the black ribbon of an S-rank. She read it thrice, and traced her fingers over Itachi's name. The same uncertain, uneasy feeling that she had earlier, when she had envisioned him in a dark, dank prison cell underneath Hokage Tower, awaiting his execution, returned. It rose and swelled in her chest like bile. She could drown in her own confusion.

She checked the clock mounted on the wall. Eight PM. Ten hours until sunrise. But she already knew that she wouldn't be getting any sleep that night.

* * *

"Weaponry?"

"I have enough."

The first rays of sunrise began to penetrate the clearing, and Itachi glanced upward. It was time. After so long – after counting down the years, the months, the weeks, the days…this was it. He had hours left. If all went…well, by sunset, it would finally be over.

The thought triggered no emotion in him; no pain, no regret. There was nothing left but numbness. He suspected that he was in a mild state of shock. Itachi breathed in, and heard her voice. _I hope that Sasuke finds you soon, Uchiha. I hope he finds you and kills you, because after all that you've done, you deserve to die at his hands. _

He exhaled slowly. It still hurt. But wasn't it true, nevertheless? There had been a time, earlier, when he had been crippled by doubt and wild second thoughts. But the more he thought about it, the more this seemed like the only way. He knew that a team from Konoha had been deployed two days ago, tasked with hunting him down. He had been the one who had given Jiraiya the information, after all. And he had engineered it specifically so that Konoha's plan would succeed, but only belatedly. He had planned his confrontation with Sasuke, in terms of timing and location, so that their unrestrained chakra, as they fought, would be clearly evident. So the Konoha team could not fail to find him, and by extension, Sasuke. But because the location was so remote and difficult to access, by the time they arrived, they would find _him _dead, and Sasuke's unconscious body. It worked out perfectly. Where, in contrast, if Konoha took him alive…it would be a disaster. And escape, in case Sasuke collapsed before cleanly finishing him off? If he was even in any condition to move, that wasn't an option either. Not only was it a dishonorable deceit, but Sasuke would never find peace, knowing that there wasn't a body. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he would always wonder and doubt. He would know the truth. It was intuition; the bond that linked them as brothers. And someday, unable to be at ease, he would leave Konoha and begin the search again. That could not happen. This was the only way.

Itachi took a deep breath, centering himself and trying to marshal his concentration. In the next instant, after a brief pulse of chakra, two exact replications of himself appeared in the clearing, without warning. Kisame looked slightly startled, as he finished bandaging his sword, before sliding it into its customary sheath across his back. "You know what to do," Itachi said, and they vanished.

He turned back to Kisame, and felt his chest tighten. "Sasuke and his team will be arriving here shortly," he said, because it was comforting, somehow, to discuss logistics – as they had a million times before in the nine years of their partnership. "You may detain the other three members of his team, and direct Sasuke to me. You know where I will be waiting. The Konoha shinobi should not arrive until much later, but if you sense any foreign chakra in the remote vicinity, you may engage a genjutsu to confuse and delay them."

Kisame inclined his head, taking the words in. "So, this is it, then," he stated quietly, his tone so much more subdued than usual.

Itachi looked up at him with that same impossible calm and nodded. Kisame was struck with the perverse desire to laugh hysterically and be honest and inform his partner that he was _batshit crazy, absolutely fucking insane, _for going through with this stupid, stupid plan. He wanted to say, _Joke's over, kid, _and then drag him off to the kitchen of their base and force him to get so drunk that he forgot about all of this madness. But then Itachi reached out and touched his hand briefly, getting his attention, and besides, his throat was too tight to even force anything out. "Thank you, Kisame," he said softly, momentarily blinded by the rush of memories. There were no words, for something like this. "For everything. Take care."

It was like…like he was just about to walk away and go to a goddamn dinner party, or something. Kisame laughed, but it was short and somehow bitter and strangled. "I'll miss you, kid. I really will."

Itachi gave him a small, sad sort of smile, and turned and walked away. Kisame turned away as well, wishing desperately that he had thought to pack some sake in his bag, to help him while away what promised to be some of the most depressing hours of his life. To keep himself from thinking too hard about the fact that the closest person that he had to a friend was walking to his own death like an animal heading to the slaughterhouse.

"Kisame."

Kisame turned back sharply, and he found Itachi standing on the other side of the clearing, watching him. "…Remember what we discussed," he said, his voice hardly audible over the breeze. "At the end. Please."

Kisame felt all the breath leave his body in a long sigh. The promise that Itachi had forced him to make – the one that had haunted him every night for the past several weeks, despite how much he tried to avoid thinking about it – seemed to suddenly became corporeal, hanging between them like a terrible specter. The occasional fragmented, disjointed nightmares he had experienced – where, faced with his partner's mangled but still barely _alive _body, _he _had to make the final blow – were now his immediate future. What would Itachi do if he said no? Better yet, _hell no, you crazy Uchiha, you're out of your mind and it's never going to happen. _Would it be enough to make him call this whole thing off?

It wouldn't. He knew that. Itachi kept looking at him, that strangely serene, gentle look on his face. If he didn't…if he refused…when the Konoha shinobi showed up, and if Itachi had even the slightest chance at life, no matter how terrible his condition was – they would use some medic-nin to stabilize his condition and then drag him back to that thrice-damned village; the childhood home that he had sacrificed so much for; the place that he had fucking saved from certain _collapse _because of his selflessness. They would throw him in a tiny, underground jail cell, regardless of his injuries. They would torture him, physically and mentally, day and night. But he wouldn't crack, because he was Itachi. Then, they would put on some farce of a trial and have him publicly executed – before subjecting him to all manner of indignities to try to extract or preserve his bloodline limit, of course. Maybe they would gouge his eyes out before or immediately after death. It would be a sick fate for anybody. Most of all for him.

Kisame remembered what Itachi had said on the day he had asked him to make this promise. _It will be a mercy._

He nodded, once, his resolve hardening. "…I will."

Itachi smiled at him then, one of the open, genuine smiles of pure, quiet happiness that Kisame had only seen a handful of times. Then he dissolved into one hundred crows, which also seemed to fly away into emptiness. After a minute, all traces of his chakra signature had faded from the clearing as well.

Kisame took a deep, steadying breath. He closed his eyes for one moment, before turning back and facing the rising sun, preparing for what was to come.

* * *

Sakura rose to greet the new day with eyes that were red and swollen with exhaustion.

This was the third day of their hunt, and Jiraiya had emphatically told them that three days was all the time they had. Their eight-man team had been searching tirelessly, day and night, for the past two days, but to no avail. They had all been tense to begin with, but in the last twelve hours, a strong undercurrent of desperation had surfaced as well. It was now or never; their big chance…and what nobody wanted to say was that it could be life or death as well.

While the others were combing the surrounding woods, mountains, and supply outposts, Sakura had been tasked with searching one of the border towns. Kakashi-sensei had theorized that Sasuke might have stayed here overnight, since there had been no trace of him in the woods. She was aided in her search by two of Kakashi's nin-dogs, who were busy intently sniffing for any vestige of Sasuke or Itachi's scents. She was glad to be teamed with the dogs, although Kakashi had asked her if she would rather join his team. Her nerves were worn enough already, and they would be even more on edge if she had been placed on a team with other humans. Besides, the dogs were an asset. They could pick up any chakra, even when it was masked. Right now, they were working with the trace of Sasuke's scent that Naruto had provided them – it came from Sasuke's old, tattered and slashed Konoha forehead protector, which he had solemnly withdrawn from his pocket and offered to each of the dogs in turn once they had been summoned. Naruto had looked years older than his age in that moment, bowed by anxiety, stress, and the tremendous weight of responsibility. That stupid promise that she had asked him to make, years ago…

Sakura bit her lip briefly in thought, before making up her mind. After the larger of the two dogs trotted ahead and disappeared from sight, she turned to the other, a female Akita Inu named Koishii that was still by her side. She was gentle in demeanor, and even more importantly, she was one of the few of Kakashi's dogs that couldn't speak. After another minute of hesitation, she withdrew her summoning scroll from the pocket of her skirt and pulled out a thin, frail old book. It was an ancient manuscript on rare and deadly medical ninjutsu. Itachi had happened upon it during one of his trips to town to refuel on supplies, and he had bought it for her as a surprise. She had been so overjoyed upon realizing what it was that she had actually jumped up and down with excitement, and Kisame had laughed and called her the weirdest teenager he had ever met.

When she had come back home, she had resisted the temptation to burn the book, along with everything else Itachi had touched, solely because it was a rare and highly valuable resource…and because she had entertained the thoughts of using some of the more painful ninjutsu on him when they met again. Sakura's lips twisted bitterly as she held the book out to the dog. She sniffed it thoroughly and then went bounding off, wagging her tail enthusiastically. Kakashi had told them, at the onset of their search, that they were at a disadvantage because they had nothing with Itachi's fresh scent on it…

The pink-haired kunoichi headed in a different direction than the dogs, knowing that they would return to her in thirty minutes. As she walked, she scanned the crowd anxiously, extending her own chakra-sensing capacity to the maximum, just in case. This was the last day they had, and there wasn't even the faintest hint of Sasuke or Itachi yet. She knew, through personal experience, how good he and Kisame were at evading pursuers. They had to know that Konoha was searching for them – there wasn't a shinobi team on earth that could surprise Itachi and Kisame.

However…if they couldn't find Itachi, would Sasuke be able to? Jiraiya seemed to think so. They were brothers, after all, and these things went deeper than a sense of intuition. Tsunade-shishou had told her once that family members could never successfully hide their chakra from one another. Sasuke would have an advantage in finding Itachi that they did not. He would gladly walk into the fight, but then…what would happen?

There was another small roadside shrine in her path; this town had many of them. Sakura stopped in front of it, bowing her head in thought. Years ago, when Itachi had killed his clan, he had spared Sasuke – citing some really strange, nonsensical reason; the true meaning of which nobody had yet deciphered. Why would he have saved Sasuke then, only to kill him now, nine years later? It couldn't have been sentimentality, or a moral conviction against killing innocent children. Itachi had slain so many defenseless children, his own cousins, that night. The youngest victim had been five months old. But then again, by all expert analysis – even though it contradicted her experience of him, personally – Itachi was criminally insane; unbalanced in the mind in many ways, even while he was flawlessly rational and intelligent in others.

Perhaps he, then, had looked forward to fighting Sasuke now; not killing him like a baby lamb up for slaughter, but anticipating a fight between equals. Maybe it had been a twisted interest in seeing his younger brother's potential. _Well, in that case, it backfired on you, _Sakura thought angrily. Did Itachi know, then, that he was creating a monster? Maybe it had even been a perverse way of challenging himself, to see whether he or Sasuke was the stronger shinobi. Sakura twisted her fingers together pensively, her head aching with confusion as she struggled to fit the pieces together.

At that instant, following the threads of chakra that he had picked up on from miles away, the second one of Itachi's clones materialized, across the street from where Sakura stood, in front of the roadside shrine. He felt his entire body tense up in wariness, even though he had made himself invisible and his chakra undetectable, with the use of a very helpful genjutsu; unbreakable and undetectable to anybody without the aid of the Sharingan. He knew, rationally, that there was no chance that Sakura could see him…but on that evening in the clearing, during their last encounter, she had still somehow managed to sense his presence. But she made no move today, and Itachi knew that for now, he was safe. It would be several minutes before Sakura's nin-dogs would cross back into the vicinity that would enable them to sense his chakra.

Though Kisame hadn't suspected anything, for the past few days, Itachi had the feeling that the team the Godaime Hokage sent after him wouldn't contain just any standard field medic, but her very best, considering the high-stakes nature of the mission. His intuition had been right. He had sensed Sakura's chakra, even from a great distance, as effortlessly as he could have detected Sasuke's. He felt some trepidation as he carefully crossed the street toward her, moving unseen through the throngs of people. Sakura was still unaware of his presence, though; she stayed still in front of the shrine, her fingers twisted together, her brow furrowed with worry and thought. Itachi noted the same subtle change in her demeanor that he had seen last time. Since she had returned to Konoha and discovered the truth about the circumstances of her injury and all that followed, it was as if an immensely heavy, tangible weight had settled on top of her shoulders. It was one that was all too familiar to him – despair. Despair, and loneliness, and Itachi closed his eyes, a wave of self-loathing washing over him as he remembered what Sakura had told him (sobbed at him, screamed at him, really), about her parents' disappearance, and how she was now all alone.

It was a foolish thing to do, but he went to stand next to her, as if he could offer her some comfort. They were close enough to touch now, and he was briefly tempted. It would be so easy to touch her hand one last time; to gently tuck the stray lock of hair that fell over her face back behind her ear, but Itachi controlled the impulse. He settled for looking at her one last time, tenderly and lovingly. It couldn't have been more evident that Sakura was worrying about the outcome of his fight with Sasuke, and he hoped, fervently, that by the time this day was over, there would be no more worry. It would be one less thing to cause her pain. Maybe she would sleep more peacefully at night, knowing that he was gone. He hoped that the weight would lift off her shoulders; that the memories would fade or be put aside. More than anything, he wanted Sakura to find her parents again, and after she and Naruto were reunited with Sasuke as well, he hoped that she wouldn't look this sad ever again.

The thought gave Itachi some solace, and the strength to take one step back. _Be well, princess, _he thought gently. _I hope that you have the happiest of lives. _His only regret was that Sakura would never know how he truly felt about her…

Itachi took a deep breath, steeling himself, and finally, reluctantly, he disappeared. As his corporeal form faded, he felt his consciousness return to the original Itachi, who had been waiting patiently inside the Uchiha outpost. The room was huge; cavernous, empty, and dark; it was a complete contrast to his previous surroundings. It took a moment for their consciousness and memories to properly mesh, and Itachi held on to the last sight of Sakura for several moments. He smiled slightly, remembering, but in the next second, his smile began to fade as he sensed the approach of a very familiar chakra…one that he knew as well as his own.

He saw Sasuke's eyes first. The gleaming crimson light of their bloodline limit penetrated the shadows eerily, as his younger brother stepped into the room. Sasuke's expression was carefully impassive, but Itachi could see the tension in his body; how his frame was drawn as tight as a string ready to snap; the white-knuckled fist that he gripped his katana in. It was clearly taking him a lot of effort to marshal his rage. In contrast, Itachi felt nothing but the same serene, protective calm that he had felt since the moment he'd woken up. Sasuke saw that, and his fingers tightened even more around the hilt of his katana, the deadly aura of chakra surrounding him thrumming with increased intensity. His eyes narrowed, the faint light from above illuminating the sharp crimson-and-black wheels within them.

"What does your Sharingan see, Sasuke?" Itachi asked softly, choosing the words deliberately, part of him wondering why – _why, why, why _– it had come to this. He had teased Sasuke with this sentence a hundred times when Sasuke had been a child…he had been upset over his bloodline limit not manifesting yet, and had often snuck into Itachi's room while he was studying to stare at him intensely. _What are you doing, little brother? _he had asked Sasuke, poking him in the forehead. Sasuke would scowl up at him in a way that was supposed to be frightening, but was really just endearing. _I'm using the Sharingan on you, aniki! Why aren't you afraid? _

_Oh, of course. What does your Sharingan see, Sasuke? _

_I see my awesome, cool aniki! _At this point, Sasuke would abandon the pretense of being a fearsome grown-up shinobi, and then run up to him, jump on his bed, and hug him tightly. _Will you train with me now, aniki? Please? Please?_

His younger brother's expression darkened, and Itachi could tell that they were remembering the same thing. Sasuke smirked humorlessly; pulling chakra to his open palm. A screaming, shrieking ball of lightning appeared within, crackling with frightening power, and Itachi's muscles tensed as he prepared to evade the lethal strike. "Your death."

* * *

Back at the shrine, Sakura looked up sharply, jolted out of her thoughts. She had only drifted away for about five minutes, but it felt like much longer. Her train of thought had been derailed, and the only thing replaying relentlessly in her mind was the memories of those conversations with Itachi, so long ago…and even though she knew she couldn't _trust _those memories, they refused to be pushed aside. She remembered them with such painful detail that it was like they were back in the kitchen; sitting in the armchair in the library; on his bed…_I love him very much_, Itachi had always said, in reference to Sasuke, with such poignant sincerity of emotion, whenever the topic of his family had come up. _He constantly seeks to prove himself, and I hope that he does not lose his way in his desire to do so. He was very sweet and trusting as a child, but like my father, and like other members of our family, he has dangerous ambitions. He can be misguided at times, but I love him completely, regardless of the questionable things he has done in the past._

For all this time, she had assumed that what he had told her on those instances were all just part of his elaborate deceit. But when Itachi had talked about his family being _alive_…now, in hindsight, she could detect those minute shifts in his tone – the ones she had never given any thought to before – but the ones that, upon careful analysis, revealed the words for the untruths they were. But when Itachi had spoken to her about his love for Sasuke, it wasn't the same. There had been a certain quality to his voice, a passion and affection that couldn't be faked. She didn't care if it was naïve or if it contradicted every piece of information in the file or about the pitying look Tsunade-shishou would give her if she knew what was going through her mind. No, it _wasn't _the same at all – the way he had sounded when he told her what she _knew _now was the lie…about his family being alive…versus how he had sounded when he discussed his feelings for Sasuke. Sakura's heart twisted as she thought of her parents, and the fierce love she felt for them. It was apparent every time she thought about them; every time she talked about them. Such depth of emotion couldn't be feigned…

And that hadn't just extended to Sasuke, either, Sakura realized, startled. There had been so much tenderness in Itachi's voice when he had told her about his mother, his cousin…and even his father, to some extent. _But why did he kill them if he loved them, then?_ Inner Sakura questioned furiously. _This doesn't make sense!_

Sakura closed her eyes, thinking hard. No answers came. _He's as insane as his file said_, Inner Sakura continued coldly. _He's a psychopath, Sakura. There's no reason to his behavior…at least, none that a normal person could ever understand._

_No! _Sakura snapped back. It couldn't be as simple as that. Psychopaths were incapable of forming such deep human attachment to begin with. The idea that Itachi could have truly loved his family, but then killed them anyway, implied some sort of serious mental illness or imbalance, and if that was the case, then she would have _had _to have seen a trace of such behavior in the seven months they had spent together. Which she hadn't. She remembered, again, their conversation on the night they had been cooking together in the kitchen. _Do you miss your family? _she had asked, believing what he had told her; that they lived in Rain and he only got to see them three or four times a year.

_More than anything, _Itachi had replied, and she had noticed, even then, the deep melancholy in his voice. _Although I plan to be reunited with them soon._

Sakura's hand froze as she reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. _Dead, _she thought, a cold sense of dread overtaking her. _All dead, save for one. _Itachi had known that very well. Why had he even said it, unless…? She fought with the wild, unbelievable ideas taking shape in her mind, because they were _crazy, _they didn't make sense, but—

The loud, urgent sound of dogs barking interrupted her thoughts, and Sakura turned sharply to see both of them standing on the other side of the road, lifting their paws up and down anxiously. The pink-haired kunoichi joined them immediately, everything that had been on her mind suspended by necessity. She placed her trembling hand on Koishii's head and looked at the other dog, a massive wolfhound. "We did it," he told her in a gravelly, deep voice. "We just picked up the scent of the younger Uchiha."

Sakura felt her heart leap up into her throat. "What are we waiting for, then?" she asked in a tight voice, her mind racing and her chest beginning to constrict with stress. "Go!"

The dogs bounded forward with unearthly speed, racing into the woods, and she followed, every bit as fast, uncaring of the stray branches that ripped at her clothes and skin. Regardless of their speed, they traveled for what seemed like hours, the surroundings an indistinct blur. Sakura forced all other thoughts out of her head for the sake of her own sanity, focusing only on leaping from one branch to another. Every step was one closer to Sasuke…and Itachi.

It seemed like it took an eternity for them to tumble out of the woods and into a clearing, bordered by a massive, solid rock cliff side to the west. For some reason, it seemed hard to breathe here. In front of them was an incredibly dense section of woods, so thick and inhospitable that she couldn't see through the tangle of greenery. Sakura looked up at the cliff and shivered, remembering the way the Cloud kunoichi had attacked her, slamming her head against the rock over and over again and causing the traumatic brain injury that had started all of this. Koishii pressed her head against the side of her leg comfortingly. Sakura leaned down to pet the dog, but then a loud crashing through the brush startled her. Kiba, Hinata, and Shino burst into view before she could even arm herself, riding on Akamaru's back. Then, half a second later, Yamato, Naruto, and Kakashi appeared, landing in the middle of the clearing, all of them breathing hard. They had all obviously raced here as fast as she had.

"Where is he?" Kiba demanded, once he had caught his breath. "Akamaru picked up the scent about an hour ago—"

Naruto looked pale and nearly sick with tension, but he lifted and pointed through the brush. "That way," he said shakily. His finger trembled. "Can't you sense that?"

"Chakra," Kakashi murmured, and now that he had mentioned it, Sakura could feel it hanging in the air, oppressively heavy around them – that was why she had found it hard to breathe when she had first arrived. She recognized Itachi's chakra in particular, heavy around her shoulders like a blanket. Hinata looked down, wide-eyed, and they followed her lead. Tremendous cracks had rent the soil; massive fissures in the ground visible toward the thick woods.

"Look," Shino said softly, and they all turned toward some felled trees.

"Shit," Kiba swore, wide-eyed. "Are we…are we too late? Did it happen already?"

"Through the brush," Yamato ordered tersely. "Let's go. Move. Now."

Sakura could hardly hear him over the pounding of her own heart. There was no time to think anymore. And she wasn't ashamed to admit that she was _afraid._ Akamaru led the way into the woods, shouldering aside and snapping at the bushes and low-hanging branches in front of them, clearing them a path. Naruto was beside her, and they reached for one another's hands instinctively, gripping them tightly and trying to gain strength from one another. She could tell that both of them feared what they would see on the other side.

When they finally cleared the brush, they came out in front of a stone building. The dark entryway was intact, but the back was mostly rubble. "Chakra damage," Hinata whispered.

She was right. Sakura surveyed the area, her palms growing clammy with cold sweat. She had never seen anything like this before…

"Check for presences?" Yamato asked tersely.

Kakashi shook his head. "Can't do it. The area's too clouded. We have to go in. I'll go. Naruto, Kiba and Akamaru, Yamato, with me. Sakura, Hinata, Shino – secure the perimeter and watch our backs."

"Shouldn't I come in?" Sakura couldn't hide the tension in her voice. "Just in case."

Kakashi shook his head grimly. "It's protocol to never let the medic-nin into an unsecured area, for the safety of the rest of the team. We'll call for you if it's all clear and if…we find a need."

Sakura had no choice but to step back, swallowing the anxiety that rose in her chest. Her gaze met Naruto's, and he nodded, his expression unreadable. Then the four of them disappeared into the dark entryway, Kakashi illuminating their path with a sphere of glowing chakra in his palm. Catching sight of the expression on her face, Hinata placed a soft, comforting hand on her arm.

Each second felt like an eternity. There was no call for her from inside. She wanted to scream. Damn protocol – she wanted to run inside after them. She could tell that Hinata and Shino were concerned for her, even as they spread into a defensive position, their backs to the door. Of course. She was waiting to discover the fate of her teammate, after all. Sasuke could be inside that building – alive, or dead, or maimed, or…

_And Itachi?_

Sakura closed her eyes, unable to think about it.

Finally, _finally, _they heard movement from inside. Shino and Hinata stiffened, and Sakura turned around sharply. Akamaru came padding out first, followed by the figures of Kiba, Yamato, Naruto, and Kakashi, slowly emerging from the gloom. She stared, but as they stepped out of the shadows, it was clear that there was no unconscious figure they were supporting between them…no lifeless body cradled in their arms… and Naruto looked like he was in a state of shock. Sakura stepped toward him instinctively, putting her arm through his.

Reading the expression on their faces, Kakashi spoke, drawing the back of his hand across his forehead. "Sasuke's gone," he said shortly.

It felt as if she had just been slapped in the face. "What do you mean?" Sakura asked, in a voice she didn't recognize as her own.

Kakashi shook his head as if in a daze. "I mean…he's literally gone. There was a trace of a foreign chakra, similar to Sasuke's and Itachi's, but not quite the same…and then, Sasuke appears to have vanished. It seems reasonable to assume that the newcomer took him along, using a transportation ninjutsu. But he was alive at the time he disappeared, that much was clear."

"The other Uchiha?" Shino asked.

"Dead," Kakashi replied. "No body. Either it was taken by another Akatsuki operative, or by whatever newcomer took Sasuke. Chances are the person was one and the same. We should have expected as much…that no matter what happened, the Akatsuki would want to keep that Uchiha bloodline."

"But you're sure he's dead?" Hinata asked faintly.

"No doubt about it. His chakra signature is just about faded. There was a lot of blood. Especially as Sasuke was alive at the end, he would have never stopped attacking until he was sure that Itachi was dead."

It was a struggle to breathe in. It was like an impossibly heavy iron weight was crushing her lungs. She couldn't help it; it was beyond her control. In the next second, Sakura's knees actually buckled beneath her, and then she felt the cold, hard dirt underneath her legs, and she didn't even care enough to be embarrassed – not around these people, who she'd known since she started at the Academy, at the age of five years old. She heard their exclamations of shock and then felt Shino and Hinata carefully, gently easing her up, and then Naruto supporting her with an arm around her waist. "It's okay, Sakura-chan," he tried to console her, even though his voice was choked with emotion. "He's all right, that's what matters. He's all right, he's safe. He finally did it. We'll get him back. We will."

Sakura forced herself to show some sign of response; she nodded mechanically, and he kept holding on to her.

"We tried to follow the trail of the guy who took Sasuke and Itachi," Kiba explained. "But it just…it just seemed to disappear into nowhere, like into some kind of vortex. Even Akamaru and Kakashi-sensei's dogs couldn't pick it up."

"There's nothing more we can do here," Yamato said heavily, before looking up at the sky. "Let's just set up camp. We're all depleted and exhausted, and we need to rest before heading back to Konoha. I'll send a message to Tsunade-sama."

"I failed," Naruto whispered at last, as their small, disheartened team turned away from the ruined building and began to walk. The two of them fell behind Yamato and Team Eight, with Kakashi bringing up the rear. His voice sounded small and impossibly broken. "I…I promised baa-chan, too, and I failed."

"No, you didn't," Sakura found the strength to console him, even though she still felt as horrible – as ripped apart – as she had in the instant after Kakashi had broken the news. "It wasn't your fault, Naruto. Please don't do this to yourself."

The mood as they set up camp in a clearing not far away, was somber. Sakura and Naruto both tried to do what was necessary – put up the tents, start a fire, unpack the bedding, establish the array of protective ninjutsu and genjutsu around the campsite, hunt for and prepare dinner – but it was no use. Naruto stared at the fish in the stream blankly, unable to summon the energy and speed to dive in and catch them with his bare hands. Sakura knelt in the dirt, struggling to remember how to put up the tent; a task she had done countless times before. Even Kakashi got the seals on one of the protective genjutsu incorrect once. At some point, Team Eight just lit the fire, pulled out the bedding and gently but insistently ordered the three of them to sit down and relax. She did so numbly, vaguely aware of the comforting feeling of Akamaru curled up at her back, giving her something to lean against. Kiba, Hinata, and Shino finished setting up camp, caught the fish for the night, and roasted them for everybody. Even though the food looked and smelled delicious, Sakura had no appetite and could barely bring herself to nibble at it. Her head pounded mercilessly. She just wanted to sleep, and wake up tomorrow, to find that this entire day had been a nightmare.

"Sakura?"

Sakura looked up, startled, to find Hinata next to her – it looked like Naruto had retreated to the boys' tent, obviously to try and do the same thing she had just been thinking about. The other kunoichi smiled shyly. "Would you like more fish?"

She was surprised to find that she had eaten an entire half fish while lost in her thoughts, but Sakura shook her head. "No, thank you," she murmured automatically. "It was delicious, though."

Hinata thanked her, and they sat quietly. Sakura was aware that the other girl was trying to be comforting, but didn't quite know what to say. She didn't blame her. At last, Hinata spoke up again, poking her thumbs together nervously. "If you…if you want to get away for a while, there's a little lake just ten minutes east of here. I bathed there earlier. The water is nice and it's very…peaceful."

Sakura tried to smile, as she stood. "Thanks for telling me, Hinata. I think I'll go right now, actually."

She fled, suddenly desperate for some solitude; for a place where she could actually have the privacy to process her thoughts. Although she normally enjoyed the company of her teammates, tonight she felt choked. For the first time, the darkness of the forest didn't bother her, as she slipped through the trees, guided by the light of the full moon as it slowly rose above the horizon. The lake was beautiful, but small; bordered by a natural rock ring. The expanse of smooth, dark water was made silver by moonlight, and after giving the perimeter a quick check, Sakura shed her clothes and slipped inside.

The water was still a little warm from the day's sunshine, and she quickly found a comfortable nook in the rock shelf to nestle against. Although her soap was within arm's reach, she couldn't bring herself to pick it up. She just stared at the silvery water, her gaze becoming unfocused.

_The other Uchiha?_

_Dead. No doubt about it. His chakra signature is just about faded…there was a lot of blood. _

Kakashi-sensei was an experienced, seasoned shinobi. He wouldn't make any mistakes.

All the breath left Sakura's body in a shuddering sigh. Though the water wasn't cold, her body had started to tremble. What was it that she had told him? _I hope that Sasuke finds you soon, Uchiha. I hope he finds you and kills you, because after all that you've done, you deserve to die at his hands. And I can assure you that it will be the happiest day of my life._

Sakura shut her eyes tightly against the memory of her own words, and the stricken look on Itachi's face. She had felt it so acutely then and in the weeks before; she had _meant it_; she had been so sure that that was what she had wanted more than anything, and once he was dead, all would be right and brighter in her world. And yet…it had happened now, it was _real,_ and it was all wrong, and she felt even worse than she had before. It didn't fix _anything. _When she thought of Itachi dead, his broken body thrown into a shallow grave, she just felt cold all over. Cold and so terribly, overwhelmingly _alone. _Yes, the murderer of the Uchiha clan was dead, but so was the Itachi that had gently held her hands and taught her how to dance like the princess and samurai in her favorite book, late at night in the back of the library. When she had asked how he knew how to do this, he had spun her around and told her that his mother had taught the three of them; him, Shisui, and Sasuke. She remembered when Itachi would snowball fight with her when she was bored, and after she was soaked with snow and shivering from head to toe, he would take her in his arms, warm her up with his chakra, and then kiss the top of her head. He used to tell her these ridiculously suspenseful stories about missions that he and Kisame had gone on in years past. They had played shogi for hours together, evenly matched.

Itachi had been the first person that she had loved; really, truly _loved. _She had never felt closer to anybody else; never been happier than when the two of them were together, hand in hand, looking up at the night sky – just like this one – and admiring the millions of stars above them._ I love you, Sakura, _he had told her then, for the very first time.

And it was the fact that she loved him so much; trusted him so completely, that made the truth so terrible to comprehend; made the betrayal that much more excruciating. She had been…so unbelievably hurt and angry when she had said all of those things… But his death only left her with a million questions that would never be answered, and this awful, hollow, _empty _feeling, and she felt her stomach twist horribly as she remembered, again, Itachi's pleas the last time they had seen one another. He had begged her to listen to him, and she had refused. And now, he was gone, and she felt none of the relief she had assumed; only this crushing sense of loss and solitude and all-consuming confusion, and—

_He was a still a murderer, Sakura, _her inner self told her, sounding subdued. _He deceived you as well as his entire family, and the village. _

_I will do my duty as a Konoha shinobi, shishou, _she had told Tsunade herself, a few days ago. This was what the village demanded. This was what they had wanted for nine years.

And yet…

It hurt so badly. Mostly, from not _knowing;_ and the understanding that now, she would never really know the truth at all. _Did I ever really know you, Itachi? _Sakura thought bitterly, pressing her hands between her knees. No. She hadn't. And it was so wrong of her, _so _wrong of her, in so many ways – what was wrong with her, anyway? Two weeks ago, she had been fantasizing about killing him herself, but now, now that she realized that maybe there was more going on than what met the eye… Her emotions made her sick with guilt, but she missed him anyway; she missed him already, with such awful intensity that it felt like it would rip her apart from the inside out. And it was too late. It was too damn _late _for anything_. _

There was nobody nearby. Even if they heard, they would assume that it was just because of Sasuke being gone. And so Sakura leaned forward and wept, until the moon was high in the sky.

* * *

_Earlier that day…_

Behind his closed eyelids, Itachi could see the full moon hanging above him. It was crimson in color, like blood. The stars…were purple…

_No, _part of his mind thought weakly, realizing that something was wrong. This was not right. He wasn't supposed to be seeing anything…

Opening his eyes was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He lay crumpled against the stone wall. Blood blurred his vision. Blood…there was blood _everywhere. _Even now, it brought back disjointed memories of that night; of his family members lying in their homes and in the streets in pools of their own blood. He was so very tired of seeing this. But it was his blood this time, which was a pleasant change.

Itachi turned his head with extraordinary difficulty. Getting his eyes to focus on any one thing was a struggle, but he could barely make out Sasuke's form, lying several feet from him. He was comparatively uninjured. His chest rose and fell steadily, though his eyes were closed. Unconsciousness from chakra depletion, most likely. But Sasuke's face was peaceful, and Itachi's lips twitched upward a fraction of an inch, a trickle of blood dripping down his chin. He detected external bleeding from the chest area; internal bleeding from…somewhere near his ribs.

He was fading in and out of consciousness himself; his vision punctuated by intermittent blackness. He was vaguely aware of pain, but his mind was already at peace, preparing for what was to come. But then some sort of stimuli registered, and Itachi felt his muscles stiffen. Chakra…Naruto's, Kakashi's, Sakura's…the Konoha team was approaching faster than he had anticipated. This would not do. He had done his best to force Sasuke into a state where he would be vulnerable to them, and he had done that successfully. But…_Kisame, _Itachi thought, feeling a rising sense of panic. _Where is Kisame? _He had an idea that this might happen – after Sakura had healed his illness, his strength level had risen. Sasuke had done his best, but that wasn't enough to completely finish him off, as it would have if he had still been afflicted by his illness. And Konoha could _not _be allowed to take him alive. If he could only move, to reach his weapons, which had been flung several feet away after the last explosion...

He lapsed into unconsciousness again, the slow blood loss and internal injuries taking their toll. When he felt the minute vibrations caused by heavy footsteps, Itachi struggled to open his eyes again. The chakra signatures of the Konoha team were closer now, but thankfully, it was Kisame who loomed above him. His vision was now so indistinct that only his partner's blue skin and the colors on his cloak were clearly visible. In one hand, Kisame held Samehada in a white-knuckled grip.

"Kisame," Itachi managed, his voice a barely audible rasp. Speaking caused a blinding pain in his broken ribs. The Konoha team would arrive within a few minutes. He wanted it to end now, quickly. "Please…"

The expression on Kisame's face was absolutely unreadable, as he lifted his sword…

…only to sheath it across his back again.

"Sorry, kid," he said grimly. "For disobeying your orders and such. But the way I see it, you still have a chance at survival. And I am not just going to let you die."

Itachi's heart almost stopped at that moment out of sheer shock. He was helpless, unable to move or protest, as Kisame bent and carefully lifted his broken body into his arms. The change in position was what did it. His head fell back limply against Kisame's upper arm. He caught a glimpse of Sasuke. He sensed the chakra of the Konoha team once again. But then he felt Kisame's chakra build and swell, and they vanished, and then there was nothing but darkness.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Thank you for reading, and as always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	15. The Revelation

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was kind enough to leave a review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Fifteen: The Revelation_

* * *

A less experienced shinobi would have taken one look at Itachi and believed that he was a goner, for sure. The external injuries were bad enough, and Samehada sensed a battery of internal injuries that were even more damning. Punctured organs, shattered ribs, internal bleeding, even some nerve damage…the works. But Kisame had seen more than ninety-nine percent of other shinobi on the field. And he knew that while his partner had enough of a chance at life to make killing him absolutely unconscionable, he also knew that Itachi needed serious medical attention, and fast, if he was going to pull through. Time was running out by the second.

Kisame's first thought was of Sakura. She had saved the Kazekage's brother from Sasori's most lethal poisons; she had cured Itachi's disease, which was thought to be incurable. She was a prodigy of sorts, despite her young age, and of course she would be the best person to help Itachi. As if it had read his mind, the sword strapped to his back shuddered slightly. It sensed her chakra amongst the many signatures of the rapidly approaching team from Konoha. The former Mist-nin tensed up, startled at how uncanny the timing was; but upon second thought, her presence was no surprise. Of course Konoha's Hokage would have seen the need for an expert medic-nin, considering the nature of this mission. At first glance, this made things more convenient – he wouldn't have to transport himself and Itachi back to Konoha and waste more precious time finding an opportunity to get her alone.

But…Kisame hesitated, his eyes narrowing as his mind raced. How could he approach Sakura now? She was accompanied by six other people, and what seemed like one unusually large and powerful nin-dog. Kakashi Hatake and the Uzumaki kid were in her team as well. If he showed himself to them outright and then tried to confront Sakura, all hell would break loose. He didn't think he could handle the situation while protecting the critically injured Itachi. The other alternative was to just snatch Sakura and go. Kisame considered the idea for a split second and then swore under his breath, the strain getting to him. The nin-dogs, damn animals, would sense his chakra, even if it was masked, if he managed to intercept Sakura before she could reunite with the rest of her team – which was a long shot, anyway. The Konoha team couldn't fail to notice if all of them except her showed up at the clearing. The dogs would lead them right to him…and Itachi, which was an infinitely worse prospect.

Either way, whether he moved now or waited a few more minutes, his identity would be discovered if he tried anything with Sakura. It wouldn't take a genius to put two and two together and figure out that he wanted her to heal the injuries that Itachi had sustained in the fight against Sasuke. Konoha would begin pursuing them in a minute, regardless of what utterly remote location he transported them to. That would only complicate matters and severely compromise Itachi's chances of recovery. He had to be safe. That was a risk he couldn't take.

So Sakura was out. There was only one alternative, which wasn't nearly as desirable…but they had no choice. Kisame spared a moment to blindly, desperately hope for the best, before he held on to the unconscious Itachi securely, and then, with one surge of chakra, vanished into the darkness.

It was less than a minute later that another dark, cloaked figure materialized in the ruined room. He was hardly visible in the shadows; the chakra that emanated off him was even more terribly powerful than Itachi and Sasuke's combined. Though there was a certain family resemblance, this chakra was tainted by a tangible darkness and malevolence absent in both of theirs. The newcomer looked around the room, scarlet eyes narrowed, searching for the second body. Nothing. _Why_? Unless Kisame had decided to act rashly and remove Itachi's body for a decent burial. It was most inconvenient; he would have to deal with that later. But the foreign chakra was coming ever closer, and he heard faint voices in the distance. Beneath the mask, a cruel smirk touched Madara's lips as he looked down at the motionless, defenseless Sasuke. So that had been Itachi's little plan? No…that would not do. He had his own plan in mind, for Sasuke and Konoha.

He lifted a hand, and an unseen force pulled Sasuke's unconscious body upright, as though he was nothing more than a puppet on a string. One more quick, effortless pulse of chakra, and the two of them were gone – leaving the ruins of the Uchiha outpost empty, and silent as the grave.

* * *

_Konoha_

* * *

Tsunade ordered Naruto and Sakura to stay for a moment, after the rest of their eight-man team had made their report and been dismissed. She gave both battered, travel-weary, discouraged teenagers a long look. "Take the rest of the week off," she commanded, lifting a hand to forestall the arguments that she knew would come. "My decision is final."

Sakura had left hastily, beside the rebellious-looking Naruto, before her shishou could ask her to do otherwise. Though she knew Tsunade was worried about her, she did _not_ want to talk about anything, or evade yet another recommendation to seek counseling. She and Naruto parted ways outside Hokage Tower – he, predictably enough, was going to blow off steam by practicing some enormously destructive ninjutsu in one of the deserted training grounds. It made Sakura feel guilty to refuse his invitation to come along – she knew that he was hurting, she knew he needed her – but she simply did not have the energy. Maintaining her composure in the aftermath of Itachi and Sasuke's fight, during their team's return to Konoha, had been difficult enough. It had taken so much out of her that now all she wanted to do was go to her apartment and be alone with her feelings, as torturous as that would be. She couldn't hide for any longer.

The pink-haired kunoichi trudged home, and after a quick, perfunctory hot shower to wash off the accumulated dust and grime, she crawled right into bed and under the covers, uncaring of the fact that there was bright sunlight behind her curtains. It was the ninth of June today, beautiful and radiant and golden like no other. It was – would have been – Itachi's twenty-second birthday. _I'm going to make you the biggest cake, _she had told him joyfully when she had discovered the date four months ago, clutching her hands together with boundless happiness and excitement at the prospect. Itachi's lips had twitched with suppressed amusement, and a brief flash of something else as well. _No, you're not._

Had he known, then? Had he already…planned everything out? He must have. That had been quite a while after the evening where he had made that cryptic statement: _I plan to be reunited with them soon._ What could possibly have been going through Itachi's mind at that moment, while they had been having that conversation?

Sakura closed her eyes tight and burrowed deeper into the blankets, feeling the tears prick at the back of her eyes and her throat close over. She was back in familiar surroundings, but she still felt as wrenchingly lost and adrift as she had the night after Kakashi had broken the news. There was nobody to witness her weakness and confusion, so she let the tears come as she pulled the covers over her head.

It was there, in that darkened room, that Sakura stayed for the majority of the following week. She didn't care about exercise, or getting fresh air or sunlight, or even particularly about showering, changing out of her pajamas, or eating. She didn't care that she sometimes heard knocks on her door during the day, and that undoubtedly, Naruto was desperately trying to contact her. She had no heart to do anything; there wasn't an ounce of energy left in her body. She felt depleted and drained from the inside out. All she could do was either stare blankly at the wall or ceiling during the day, and bury her head in her pillow, wild thoughts racing beneath her closed eyes during the night.

It was the first time in her life that she had ever allowed herself to fall to pieces so utterly. In the immediate aftermath of Sasuke's defection from Konoha, she had her parents to comfort her, and then her apprenticeship with Tsunade-shishou to distract her. Even after losing her parents earlier this year, she had thrown herself obsessively into her work at the hospital in an attempt to distract herself.

And even that…it made her feel terribly guilty to think it, even in the privacy of her own mind, but even _that _had been less bad, in a way. Losing her parents had been the trigger for the major depressive episode that she'd been experiencing since returning to Konoha, but at least…at least, even now, she knew that her mom and dad were out there, somewhere. They were alive and well, wherever they were. They knew that she had loved them. There was still even a chance that she would find them someday. And there were none of the horrible, all-encompassing, crushing regrets that she had, regarding Itachi.

More often than not, Sakura cried intermittently, wiping her eyes and nose on the blankets. She didn't even know _why _she was crying; she couldn't make sense of the emotions that raged through her, threatening to swallow her up entirely. There was just always this sense of being _cold, _and helpless, and so confused it was sickening, and alone. After she nearly passed out on the way to the bathroom one afternoon, she forced herself to abandon the sanctuary of her bed just for the occasional shower and meal of microwave ramen once a day. And also, she had to get up when Ino screamed so loudly at the door that Sakura heard it from her bedroom, threatening at the top of her lungs to kick the door in if she didn't let her inside to spend the night immediately. Despite Sakura's reluctance, Ino, bearing chocolates and old movies, had been a comforting presence - even if she had been consoling her over something else entirely.

"He'll come back, I know he will," Ino assured her gently, sorting through the chocolates in order to find Sakura's favorite cream-filled ones, holding them out to her as she spoke. "He's killed his brother; he's done what he left Konoha to accomplish. He'll defeat whoever is holding him now, just like he defeated Orochimaru, and he'll return here, where he belongs. This is his home and now he has no reason to stay away."

Sakura nodded mechanically, and for a moment, she was so tempted to spill out the truth to her oldest friend. But she held her tongue, her heart weighed down with the same immovable heaviness. What would be the point, now? It was too late. Too late for anything.

The thought was hardly any consolation, but it became her mantra in the weeks that followed, after her enforced leave finally came to an end. She threw her efforts wholeheartedly into preparing for the jounin exams that would take place in a few months' time, desperately searching for a distraction and a path to redirect her emotions. Alongside her, Naruto prepared for the chunin exams, which were scheduled for spring of the next year. He was still a genin at that point – unimaginable. With what little time Sakura had remaining, she split between high-ranked missions…which were also team missions…and the hospital. There was no opportunity to allow her mind to wander during the day, and when her head hit the pillow at night, she fell asleep instantaneously. Then she rose with the sun the next morning and let the cycle continue again.

One afternoon, right after Sakura had returned from a mission, Tsunade called her into her office. She gave her apprentice an appraising look. "I've hardly seen you over the past month and a half, Sakura. You look well."

"I've been keeping busy, shishou," Sakura replied in her brightest tone. "Kurenai-sensei has been giving me some extra genjutsu training sessions in between missions, so that my skills may appear a little more well-rounded to the judges when the exam finally comes around."

Tsunade nodded approvingly. "Very good. Honestly, though, I think you're already more than prepared. You'll get the promotion for sure, even though the judging panel in Sand is tougher than the one here. Still, the missions that you've been doing over the past several weeks will serve you well, since you've been…out of the field…for the better part of a year. That was actually why I called you in today."

Sakura raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Yes, shishou?"

Tsunade sighed deeply, massaging her temples. "There's trouble," she said shortly. "We have reason to believe that Danzou and Root are preparing for some kind of uprising…to stage a coup designed to enable him to take control of the village, as a matter of fact."

Sakura's eyebrows shot up this time, and she sunk into one of the chairs, staring incredulously. Her first instinct was to think that it was some kind of sick joke, but her shishou looked incredibly grim. "_What?_"

The Hokage inclined her head again, looking weary. "That's the intelligence we have from our informants in Root. However, there's nothing more concrete than that. Those three operatives are not very high-ranking, though they're better than nothing. We don't have nearly enough details…and in turn, evidence to make an arrest." She sighed again. "As if things aren't bad enough, we also suspect that we have a spy from Root in our midst – but we don't have any idea who it is. Even our informants can't help us there."

Sakura bit her lip hard, considering the situation. The idea of Danzou as Hokage and Root in control of Konoha…it made her sick to her stomach. And worst of all, if Danzou had planned to strike and establish himself as the leader of Konoha, it would be a violent, bloody affair, to say the least. He and Root would imprison Tsunade-shishou and all of her supporters. Or worse. She shuddered, meeting her shishou's troubled gaze. "Thank the kami we had warning," she murmured. "If not…well, we need to find the spy, and the evidence that this is what Danzou is planning. I bet that there's more than one Root member in the know about this too. As a matter of fact, it's probably…"

"A mission," Tsunade completed. "Exactly. A top-secret assignment for Root's best."

"Which means there must be scrolls," Sakura said, the realization dawning on her. "Scrolls with all the orders and the details…the significant dates, the modus operandi…that would be invaluable! It would be all the evidence you need to make an arrest and have Root dismantled before it's too late!"

Tsunade inclined her head. "Yes. And that is where you come in."

The memory the words triggered – it was the exact same phrase her shishou had used before assigning her that last fateful mission to Cloud. Sakura fought the shiver that ran down her spine. It hadn't been a full twelve months ago that she had sat in this office and received those orders, but she felt years older than the innocent girl she had been at that time. "Tell me what I need to do, shishou," she said, keeping her tone as flawlessly calm as she could.

"Our informants are unable to access Root's archives while remaining undetected, as they are Root operatives themselves, and lack the clearance to enter. As I mentioned, they are lower-ranking individuals within the organization. However, _you _could access the archives, with the aid of a few genjutsu. One of our operatives did manage to acquire the password to the secure area. I would go and investigate myself, but you know how these things are." Tsunade looked displeased; she had made several comments over the years about the times she missed being an active-duty shinobi. "The archives have copies of every mission ever assigned…considering Root's reputation, these archives include missions of a more sensitive nature. The Third Hokage left behind notes implying that these were almost all top-secret, and that was why they could not be held in Hokage Tower with the rest of the missions. I've signed off on a few of these myself, but the Sandaime did far more work with them." She paused. "In any case, Danzou's assignment for his Root operatives regarding this attempted takeover must be in these special archives. Your task is just to infiltrate the archives – security is comparatively lax overnight, I'm told – and then locate these mission scrolls for me."

It was so terribly similar to the last mission that it set every one of her nerves on edge. _Get a grip! _Sakura ordered herself sharply, disconcerted by the nearly crippling nervousness and anxiety that had continued to plague her since her return home. It hadn't gotten any better as time passed, and it was unbecoming in a shinobi. This was just in Konoha. Root headquarters were just a few miles from here, in the outskirts of the village. One genjutsu to alter her appearance and another to alter her chakra was all it would take.

The pink-haired kunoichi stood up decisively. "I'll go tonight, then." She'd had a long day and she could feel the exhaustion deep in her muscles and bones, but it didn't matter. Time was of the essence here. Under the Hokage's careful gaze, she engaged a genjutsu, changing her height, eye, and hair color. "Where can I find a mask and uniform?" she asked. Thankfully, Root didn't use the animal masks favored by the rest of ANBU; their masks were all a uniform bone-white, an empty and featureless slate. It made them harder to identify as individuals, but much easier to impersonate.

"Shizune can help you with that. And you should mute your chakra signature – don't mask it, but try to make it more nondescript. Good luck, Sakura."

It took only a few minutes for Shizune to get her fully outfitted and disguised. Sakura's skin crawled as she pulled on Root's trademark brown uniform. _It's lucky that we even have these, _Shizune had told her. _They don't know, of course. Our operatives snuck out four uniforms and masks. _Tsunade, also, had told her a lot about Danzou over the course of her apprenticeship – and Root's reputation within the village was unsavory, to say the least. Sakura had been dreading putting on the mask above all else, and walking out of Hokage Tower with it on was as unsettling as she had expected. Nobody looked twice at her during the long walk, not even as she approached Root headquarters, which was good – but she felt like a faceless, disconnected ghost, drifting through the streets of Konoha. So many children, from the time they entered the Academy, held ANBU as their highest ambition. The Black Ops were famous. Glamorous. Prestigious. But it was something she had never desired for herself.

_This is as close to ANBU as I'll ever get, _Sakura thought, as she faced the guard standing outside the door of Root Headquarters. It was a low, sprawling compound that looked more like a military bunker than anything else. "Identification?" the guard asked impassively.

Sakura recited the sixteen-digit code that Tsunade had given her, as naturally and flawlessly it was like it had been engraved in her mind for months – one and a half months, to be precise. That was how often Root changed their security code; another reason it had been prudent to act today. This code would expire in three days.

The guard wordlessly stepped back, allowing her access to a mechanized keypad. Sakura punched in another long, memorized code. After a moment (as her stomach twisted up in knots and she was all too aware of the guard's eyes on the back of her head), she heard the lock click. She bit her lip against an instinctive sigh of relief as she stepped inside.

Thankfully, there weren't many people inside at this time of day. Hopefully this would all go as planned. She had to fight the memory of the Cloud mission with every breath she took. _This is good preparation for the jounin exams,_ she told herself bracingly. _I need to re-learn how to function under emotional stress._ Remembering Shizune's instructions to the archival area, Sakura made her way down three flights of long spiral stairs. It got darker and colder with every further step she took underground. The stairwell was so narrow that she could stretch both arms out and feel the walls pressing in on her, and although she wasn't normally claustrophobic, it was a disturbing feeling.

She glanced upward, and although she couldn't see the sky, her internal clock told her that it was close to five PM. Excellent. The usual archive guards went off duty at this time, just like in Hokage Tower. The same access code she had used on the keypad to enter the building would get her into the archive room. Sakura sensed no presences in the lower floor of the building as she finally reached the basement, making her way to the last door on the left. She punched the code into the attached keypad one more time, and as it had done earlier, after a few moments, the lock clicked and the heavy metal door swung open an inch, creaking slightly.

The room appeared dimly lit, and Sakura swallowed over her apprehension as she stepped inside, slowly glancing around and shutting the door behind her. It took a little while for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. The archives were more vast than she could have imagined – the room looked as large as the main archives in Hokage Tower, even though Root was just a small subsection of ANBU. Sakura frowned as she remembered Tsunade's words about the records of the village's most top-secret, sensitive missions being stored here, for higher security. She felt very small and insignificant where she stood, surrounded on all sides by an endless amount of toweringly high shelves, all precisely stacked with thousands upon thousands of scrolls.

She began to walk, observing her surroundings carefully. It appeared the scrolls and shelves were sorted in alphabetical order. What would this scroll be categorized under? K, for Konoha? That would be a start.

It felt like it took forever to move through the shelves and the alphabet; her neck and eyes began to ache from looking upward. As she moved closer to the K's and farther back in the corridors, pressing deeper and deeper into the archives, Sakura couldn't help but feel a little unsettled. The already-dim light fixtures were spaced much further apart here, and the archives had an odd, heavy, utterly dead silence, which seemed to press on her more and more the longer she stayed. Even the air seemed less fresh and more dusty and stale, the further she got from the entrance. This entire place felt like an eerie sort of maze; a setting for one of the creepy horror movies that she and Naruto liked to watch together.

Sakura couldn't hold back her sigh of relief when she finally came across the K scrolls. In a matter of minutes, she would be able to find the evidence she needed and take it back to Tsunade-shishou, so she could crush Danzou like the bug that he was. Cheered by the thought, she began the search…

And an hour later, she closed her aching eyes, rubbed her throbbing head, and shoved the last K scroll back onto the shelf with a snarl of frustration. Nothing. She had opened and looked at every single damn scroll – hundreds of them – and found nothing. Sakura sunk to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest and pressing the heels of her palms to her strained eyes, releasing a thin stream of chakra to soothe them. _Stupid_, she cursed herself. Of_ course_ Danzou or his lackeys wouldn't put the scroll anywhere so obvious, in case they either didn't trust their own, or were wary about something like this happening. It could be hidden anywhere in this thrice-damned archive, among the hundreds of thousands of identical-looking scrolls. She would have to come back every night, all night, for days to search this whole place. It was time they might not have.

_Not necessarily_, Inner Sakura piped up unexpectedly. _If you were going to hide something you didn't want to be found in an alphabetized archive, where would you put it?_

Sakura stiffened, realizing the truth in her words. She got up, dusted herself off, and broke into a light jog, straight toward the very back of the archives; unfazed by the increasing darkness and the musty quality of the air. Her footsteps echoed in the silence until she finally came to a stop in front of the Z's. She surveyed all of the scrolls before her with narrowed eyes. There were much fewer here, naturally…and all of them were brittle and yellowed with age. Another thought occurred to her, as suddenly as a lightbulb flicking on inside of her head. This plan of Danzou's had to be more recent, drafted at least in the past two years, which meant it would be inscribed in a newer-looking scroll – ivory in color, less dusty, tied with a black ribbon that would still have some sheen to it.

That criterion ruled out most of the scrolls in the Z, Y, X, and W sections, which made her subsequent search easier, although there had still been a few false alarms. Sakura squinted up at the U section, feeling optimistic. Her gaze scanned over the rows upon rolls of scrolls carefully, until…

There. Amongst several yellowed, aging scrolls, near the top row, far above her, there was one shoved in their midst that looked conspicuously newer than the rest. U would be the ideal hiding place, she realized, with a sense of dawning excitement. It was an unusual letter to begin a name with. Trying to keep herself calm, Sakura raised one hand, concentrating hard. A web of chakra strings, like the kind Chiyo had used to aid her in the fight against Sasori, erupted from her fingers. She hadn't perfected the technique yet, but this would have to do. She maneuvered her fingers awkwardly, trying to guide the strings, which hovered ten feet over her head. At long last, one of the strings found purchase on the new scroll. Sakura pulled back triumphantly, and the scroll fell down, into her outstretched hand…along with three of its neighbors, which had been jostled by the strings. Unfortunately enough, they all landed on on her head.

"Ouch!" Sakura gave one of the offending scrolls a baleful look, nudging it with her foot and dislodging the ribbon. That had been a particularly heavy one. She would have to re-tie it before setting it back with the others. First things first, though…

Her heart pounding with adrenaline, she unrolled the scroll in her hand quickly and began to scan it. Her eyes narrowed more and more as they traveled down the page. Finally, feeling her stomach turn in disgust and her skin crawl due to the proof of treachery she held in her hand, Sakura tied the scroll up again, grimly depositing it in her pocket. This was exactly what Tsunade-shishou had been looking for. By dawn, Danzou would already be under arrest. Conspiring to murder the Hokage…he could face death for that, and she took several deep breaths, trying to calm the agitation surging inside her. She had to inform her shishou immediately.

But first – nobody could know that she had been here. Sakura bent, gathering the fallen scrolls hastily and depositing them back on the shelf. She turned to face the last one, the heavy one, lying half-open on the floor. Her thoughts were already a million miles away as she knelt down, picking up the ribbon to retie it, and—

She froze, catching a glimpse of one of the words inside the scroll. _Uchiha_.

Her heart squeezed painfully, and all of the breath left her body in a sharp sigh as she sat back, stunned, her fingers brushing the scroll. It wasn't as unexpected as it seemed. Iachi had been in ANBU. _Of course._

Part of her just wanted to roll it up hastily and put it back on the shelf without a further look. It would hurt too much. It would just bring to the surface all the confusion and doubt and anguish she had been trying to keep suppressed for so long. She had to lay these thoughts to rest, like Itachi was. Nothing good could come out of a continued preoccupation with a dead man – and especially not someone like _him, _who had been a mystery wrapped up in an enigma. Whom she had never really known or understood at all.

It was wrong and unhealthy of her to have such depth of feeling for him, considering everything…especially the fact that he was now gone, anyway, which meant she would never learn the truth. Sakura's lips curved in a small, slightly bitter smile as she remembered Soichiro, the special jounin who had asked her out to dinner two weeks ago, after she had finished fixing him up after a mission. She had been surprised, and although he was nice, she had politely declined, saying that she wanted to focus all of her energy on preparing for the jounin exams. He'd understood, but when Ino had found out, she had whacked her in the upper arm with the thick stack of manila folders she had been holding. _What's wrong with you, Forehead Girl? _she had cried despairingly. _You should have gone for it! I thought you said you were over Sasuke!_

Sakura couldn't tell her that it was Itachi that she missed. That it was _him _she wanted by her side, not anybody else. Maybe that would fade in time, but it wouldn't be easy. Regardless of everything else, he had still been her first love. And for now, her heart still felt heavy with sorrow at the thought of him.

This mission Itachi had done would have been…before the massacre, of course. She liked to imagine what he would have been like, then. Sometimes it brought her comfort.

Sakura tugged the scroll open fully and began to read. The print was small, the ink faded. It was a solo mission, Itachi the only operative. S-ranked. The location was marked as being inside Konoha, and her eyebrows raised. That was strange. As for the date…she frowned. October twelfth, nine years ago. It seemed innocuous at first, but it had some creeping significance. When she finally realized what it was, she felt cold all over.

How could she have forgotten? It had been autumn, the leaves had been falling, and there was a chill in the air as the Academy let out for the evening. She had been wearing the new pink scarf her mother had knitted for her, and her hands had been nervously fisted in the ends as she shyly asked Sasuke if they could walk home together. He'd looked thoughtful for a minute. _Tomorrow, _he said, at last. _Mother is making Itachi's favorite for dinner today, and Father won't like it if I'm late._

She had practically skipped all the way home in her excitement. But Sasuke hadn't been at school the next morning. She had, at first, been worried that he was sick. But by afternoon, everybody knew what happened, despite the adults' trying to keep it a secret. As if they hadn't noticed the strained expressions on all of their instructors' faces. They had been eight years old, not stupid. Sakura couldn't remember whether it was Shikamaru or Kiba who had told everybody. After school, she had gone home and thrown up. Her father had tried to comfort her. He had known Sasuke's parents well, having been their accountant. She'd heard him talking to her mother after he thought she had gone to bed. "October twelfth," he had told her sadly. "One of the darkest days in the history of our village. And poor Sasuke…he will never be able to forget this trauma."

Sakura blinked away her tears and the memory, staring down at the scroll. Her insides clenched up with dread. The eternal question about why Itachi had killed his family if he really did care about them…the assignment of an S-ranked solo mission _within Konoha _dated for October twelfth…the pieces were starting to fit together, forming a picture too gruesome to contemplate. She couldn't believe it, but the proof was right in front of her.

But _why_? Why would the Hokage ever order him to…she didn't _want _to read it further; there was already bile rising in her throat. But she forced herself to go on, flinching back from the words on the page. But the story unfolding before her eyes was fascinating and terrible at the same time. The Uchiha clan's plot for a coup to take over control of Konoha, so much like Danzou's own. Itachi's role as a double agent, as he chose to confess the secret plans of the Uchiha elders to the Sandaime. Had he known the cost of that choice, at that time?

She kept going, feeling as though she was being dragged further and further into deep water. It only got worse. The leadership of Konoha, namely the Sandaime and the Council of Elders, decided that the only way to quell the Uchiha rebellion was – not through diplomacy, not through compromise, but…to put them down for good. To eliminate them entirely, every last man, woman, and child, because apparently they were too troublesome, too ambitious and power-hungry, too much of a threat to the village's status quo to _exist. _It was sickening and irrational and she would have never believed it, not in her wildest dreams, if this insanity hadn't been right _there _in front of her, signed and stamped by the Hokage and the council themselves.

And who had they chosen as their executioner? Who better than somebody on the inside – somebody the Uchiha clan would never expect? It was the natural choice. Somebody loyal enough to the village to take the sole responsibility for the murders, absolving Konoha of the blame, keeping this dark secret all the way to the bitter end…

Sakura stared down at the cold, heartless words. Quell the rebellion. Exterminate the Uchiha clan. _Exterminate. _She tasted the salty, metallic tang of blood, and she lifted her fingertips to her lower lip, dazed, feeling where she had bitten through the skin. She felt as if her insides had turned to ice. It was difficult to breathe. She set the scroll down numbly, wanting to rip it to pieces for the despicable thing it was. She knew she should take it with her and leave. Tsunade-shishou didn't know the truth. She should take both pieces of evidence and present them to her right away.

But she couldn't move. She leaned back against the shelf lifelessly, feeling her breath come in ragged gasps, as her mind fought to comprehend the shocking, terrible reality of what she had just read. She buried her head in her hands, overwhelmed. There were a million thoughts fighting for precedence, but above all…_He was good all along, _Sakura realized, now, still too shocked to function. The implications of that drove the breath from her body. The entire time. It had all been an elaborate pretense.

Something else suddenly registered, and she looked down at the scroll again. Itachi had been ordered to kill his _entire _family and then leave Konoha. He had defied those orders, in order to spare Sasuke's life. He had urged Sasuke to live and grow stronger, to defeat him. And now – this meant – as she had vaguely suspected in her last moments at the roadside shrine, Itachi had allowed Sasuke to kill him.

It took a concerted effort to suppress the wave of nausea that washed over her. Clarity. She finally had the clarity she had craved for so long, but now the weight of the truth threatened to crush her. The kind, gentle Itachi she had known – it hadn't all been an elaborate deception, like she had initially believed. No. _That _had been the truth. It was everything else that had been a lie, all the things in his file about him being a psychopath mass murderer and a cruel sadist and the most dangerous, deadly missing-nin out there.

It all made sense now. She knew a coup like the one the Uchiha had been planning would have resulted in tremendous bloodshed and loss of life – which Itachi would have found abhorrent, being the pacifist he was. Besides, that immense degree of political upheaval would have left Konoha vulnerable to attack from its enemies. Sakura could see it all play out, like some awful horror movie, in her mind's eye. Itachi had been a dutiful, honorable shinobi. He would have opposed the proposed coup in the first place.

Maybe, as the heir to the clan, he would have tried to convince his father and the elders to abandon the plan. It wouldn't have worked. She could imagine Fugaku's stern face. _Your loyalty is to the clan first, Itachi. Remember that. _Itachi would have made an attempt, but his conscience would have kept troubling him. Finally, out of desperation, trying his best to do what was right, he would have turned to the Sandaime and confessed everything.

From what Tsunade-shishou had told her about the Sandaime, Sakura couldn't believe that his first suggestion was to order that atrocity of a mission. No…that had Danzou written all over it. First, maybe the Sandaime had used Itachi to spy on the Uchiha clan; be their informant from the inside. Maybe, under the Third's instruction, Itachi had tried to put a stop to things again. Obviously it didn't work. One day, he would have reported that their efforts had been futile and that the Uchiha were ready to make their move. They had comprised a huge amount of ANBU, Sakura knew – at least one per team. They had been the entirety of the Konoha Police Force. The Uchiha were the strongest shinobi in the village. Once the rebellion had begun, there would be no stopping it. Konoha couldn't imprison them all – they were too strong. They couldn't be exiled; that would put the village in an even more dangerous position. There was only one alternative to quell the Uchiha problem once and for all…for the good of the village, of course.

Itachi would have sat in the chair that she had sat in, so many times, when the Sandaime had given him this final mission. He didn't have a very expressive face, unlike her. He kept his emotions under tight lock and key. He would have read this scroll, his fingers resting where she had just touched. He wouldn't have flung it away from him as if it burned to touch it. He wouldn't have screamed that there was no way, no chance in _hell, _that they could make him do this. He wouldn't have refused.

He would have felt sick, like heart was breaking into little pieces, like she did now. He would have nodded and understood why he was being ordered to do this. And then, maybe he had gone home and cried, because he was thirteen. _Thirteen. _At some point Itachi must have figured out that he could never spare his parents. That the only one could save was Sasuke. One eight-year-old boy would be no threat to the village. And someday, Sasuke would grow up and hunt him down and kill him, therefore restoring honor to the Uchiha name. Itachi had planned all of it so perfectly. He had probably even joined Akatsuki to add credence to the idea that he was an evil person. It made her want to throw up.

All this time, Sasuke had despised Itachi…never knowing that the older brother he had once adored still loved him, had _always _loved him.

Sakura became aware of a dull, hollow, echoing sound, and she looked down. A steady stream of tears were running down her face and dripping onto the porcelain of the discarded ANBU Root mask that lay in her lap. _What of Sasuke? _Sakura asked herself miserably, unable to control the small, animal-like whimper of desperate pain that forced its way past her throat. She rocked forward, gripping her hair with her fingers in a bruising grip. All the terrible things she had screamed at Itachi, the very last time they had seen one another… He truly had loved her all along, and she had accused him of lying to her and hurting her. She had actually taken pleasure in the stricken look on his face. She'd refused to listen to whatever he had been so desperate to tell her, at the end. She had attacked him with lethal intent, when he had never treated her with anything but kindles. She had put a knife to his throat when he had come to see if she was all right. She had even told Itachi that she wanted him to _die. _She told him that she hated him and that his death at Sasuke's hands would be the happiest day of her life. And all along, the entire time…

A low moan of anguish escaped Sakura's lips as she huddled into herself. She had been so unforgivably stupid, blinded by her pain at losing her parents and the shock of discovering the "truth." The _truth. _She had believed it so readily, dismissing what her instincts were telling her about Itachi and everything that had happened between them; how she had at first clung on to the belief that everything that they had shared could not have been a lie, regardless of what had been in his file.

And even that – now she understood. Itachi had saved her life not because he had wanted to hold her captive and use her for her medical skills, but – just _because. _Once he and Kisame had discovered her amnesia, they did the only thing they could. Considering the nature of Itachi's plan, he couldn't have risked returning her to Konoha. Instead of just leaving her somewhere, in the vulnerable state she had been in, they had cared for her.

The memories, on top of her new knowledge of the truth of Itachi's past, were too much. Sakura gritted her teeth hard, but she was unable to keep back the sobs. She shook like a leaf, wracked by guilt and remorse. And the last thing she had ever said to him…she was a fool. How many times had Kakashi-sensei told them to always look underneath the underneath? She had been so horribly blind, and now it was too late. She wanted nothing more than to go back to that evening in the woods and accept Itachi's apology and hear the truth from his own lips, and fling herself into his arms, and tell him that it was all okay; that she loved him and forgave him and understood, and then implore him to abandon his entire awful plan, but—

It would never happen. Her chance had been lost forever. Itachi was _dead, _gone, blamed until the very end for a crime he had been ordered to commit. Maybe she could have figured out the truth sooner and stopped him during their encounter in the forest, if she hadn't been so stupid. He had _loved _her, and she had told him that she blamed him for all her pain, and that there was nothing that she wanted more than for him to go to his own death.

It was all her fault, she knew that, and Sakura could do nothing more but weep, bitterly curling her hands around the scroll with the terrible secrets.

* * *

_Rain _

* * *

Death was nothing like Itachi expected it to be.

On the rare occasions that he had imagined it, he had thought of the afterlife as being a quiet, serene place. For some reason, he had actually envisioned himself wandering in endless, perpetual solitude, through a peaceful tea garden. Every so often, he would reach a special tree, part its leaves, and then catch a glimpse of the mortal world – namely, Sasuke leading a happy life in Konoha.

What he was experiencing now was nothing like that, but it was nice nevertheless. It was like a series of happy dreams and memories. Holding little Sasuke by the hand as he took his very first steps, his eyes wide with wonder. Helping his mother cook dinner as they conversed quietly, training with Shisui…teaching Kisame's little sister genjutsu, despite his partner's disapproval. The countless competitions he and Kisame had over the years over who could catch more fish – which had once ended in Itachi getting swept downriver in pursuit of a particularly large salmon, while Kisame had stood on the banks and roared with laughter. Holding Sakura's hand as they stood under the stars together, when he had told her that he loved her for the very first time.

This would be an enjoyable way to spend eternity, and Itachi was pleased, although he did hope that eventually, he would find a way to look down into the mortal world. He was already wondering about Sasuke and Sakura – he had no concept of time where he was, and he hoped that he hadn't missed anything important in their lives. But for now, he was mildly surprised by the intensity in which he could _feel _things. The sweetness of the hot tea with honey his mother would make him, the feeling of Sakura's hands on his chest, the sound of Kisame's voice…even the mildly painful, irritating pressure of the jabs Shisui would direct at his ribs while they sparred. Itachi twisted slightly, frowning. This was Shisui's revenge, he was sure of it. It was the kind of thing his cousin _would _find amusing. Itachi tried to say Shisui's name, moving his arms to shield himself from the blows.

But even though he was in his twelve-year-old body and appeared as whole and healthy as could be, the movement _hurt. _His arms seized up, and it felt like all of his muscles were simultaneously being crushed and twisted by an iron hand. A small, strangled hiss of pain escaped Itachi's aching throat. Why was this happening? This abnormality had never occurred before. Shisui was speaking to him now…but with Kisame's voice. He could barely register the discrepancy and make out the words through the agony that lanced through his body. "Konan! I think he's waking up!"

_Konan? _That wasn't right; Shisui had never met Konan. Something was not adding up. Itachi tried to move again, feeling his heartbeat accelerate out of distress. _Heartbeat? _His limbs felt leaden and throbbed like they never had before. Shisui began to fade from his vision, and he wanted to reach out desperately and take his closest friend's hand and beg him not to go (_I'm sorry, I'm sorry for what I had to do, please don't leave)_, but his arms wouldn't cooperate—

"It won't do for him to thrash around like this." It was a female voice in the darkness that surrounded him now – calm and familiar, but not Sakura's. Different. "I had a feeling he'd regain consciousness after that last check I did on his heart. This is a good sign. Here, help me hold him."

Suddenly, a pressure on both of his hands and on his chest, pressing him back down onto the bed. The _bed. _His confusion, like the pain, was all-consuming. His heart was racing. He was breathing hard. Itachi fought to open his leaden eyes. _No, no, this is all wrong. _He never thought he would ever have to do this again, and it was only the desire for an answer that motivated him to open his eyes at last. He struggled to focus his gaze, grimacing at the bright sunlight in the room, but finally, he was able to make sense of the blurry, indistinct figures standing nearby. There was Konan, the sleeves of her Akatsuki cloak rolled up to her elbows. And beside her…Kisame, who looked worried, abashed, and relieved all at once.

The sight of him triggered the memory – the memory of lying helpless and broken in the ruins of the Uchiha outpost, feeling the life slowly seeping out of him. The unconscious Sasuke had been lying mere feet away from where he had collapsed. Even then, Itachi remembered how clearly he had been able to sense the approaching chakra of the Konoha team. He had waited desperately for Kisame, but when his partner had finally showed up, he… _Sorry, kid, _he had said grimly, as she sheathed his sword across his back._ "For disobeying your orders and such. But the way I see it, you still have a chance at survival. And I am not going to just let you die."_

And now he was _here. _More importantly, where was Sasuke? Had his younger brother safely returned to Konoha by now? Kisame and Konan wouldn't know; he would have to find out himself. But why couldn't he move? The rush of thoughts sent a surge of panic through Itachi's veins, but when he tried to speak, he couldn't manage more than a strangled-sounding rasping noise.

"Shh," Konan said hastily, stepping forward and carefully propping him up into a more upright position and holding a glass of water to his lips. Her touch was gentle, but that and the movement still sent spasms of agony through Itachi's body. His hands shook too much to properly hold the glass, and he stared, aghast. Even after Sakura had healed his illness, he hadn't been left in such a frail state. "Don't try to talk just yet," Konan instructed. "Take very small sips only, one every five seconds."

Itachi complied, desperate to do something to ease the sandpaper-like feeling of his mouth and throat. The cool water was indescribable relief. Kisame fidgeted, looking slightly guilty. "He's either asking about Sasuke, or trying to reproach me for disobeying orders and breaking my promise. Maybe both."

Itachi managed to incline his head a fraction of an inch in assent. Konan smiled slightly as she checked his pulse, and she apologized when she felt him wince at the slight pressure of her fingertips. "Don't worry, you'll be able to talk properly again within the next day or so," she assured him. "It's just that you've been unconscious for so long—"

It took a superhuman effort to force his articulators to move correctly, and that just to manage one word. "How?"

"Kisame brought you here – we're at the base in Rain – close to four weeks ago. You were critically injured after the confrontation with your younger brother." Konan sighed, looking down at him. "The healing was definitely a struggle, and a lengthy process. There were numerous internal and external injuries. It stretched the limits of my knowledge." She tapped a cerulean-painted finger on the bedside table wryly. "Your Sakura would have done it better, and faster, as well. But Kisame couldn't figure out a way to get her without Konoha figuring out that you were still alive. They actually think that Sasuke killed you. Their delusion is quite amusing."

_Your Sakura. _The words made Itachi close his eyes, feeling more than physical pain. In his dreams, while he had been unconscious, she had still been the Sakura he remembered – happy, and very much in love with him. Konoha thought that he was dead? He wondered how he would have reacted – if she would have given a quiet sigh of relief; if she had smiled at the thought. Would she have healed him, if Kisame had gone to her? He forced the thoughts away for his own sake. "Sasuke?" he croaked instead, hoping for the best.

Instead, Kisame shook his head. "We have no idea," he replied quietly.

Itachi closed his eyes, feeling his insides clench up with terrible worry. There was no reason to doubt that Sasuke would have been taken by the Konoha team – he had been in no condition to put up any resistance, after all. The thought was small consolation. Until he was able to check on the situation himself, he wouldn't be at ease. The tension made his head ache. He had never thought that he would be in a position like this – in all of his plans, by the time Sasuke had returned to Konoha, he was already _dead. _What could he possibly do with his life now? For so long, everything had always been shaped around Sasuke, and putting him back on the right track. Now Konoha and Sasuke thought he was dead. It was all over; everything he had so meticulously planned out and engineered. For years, this battle with Sasuke had loomed in front of him. He had never expected to live past it – but here he was. And from this point on, everything was a blank page. Unknown. Where would he go from here? What awaited him? He had never felt as confused and disoriented as he did in this moment.

"Are you in pain?" Konan asked, going to one of the nearby counters and selecting a prescription bottle full of large red pills. "It has actually been a while since your last dose."

Now that she mentioned it, Itachi became conscious, again, of the awful pain that wracked his body, sweeping over him in waves. He nodded, and Kisame handed him the pill and the glass of water. Konan tucked her hands into the sleeves of her Akatsuki cloak, watching him seriously. "I healed almost all of the injuries that you sustained during the fight…but as I said earlier, it took a very long time. Your muscles have deteriorated considerably over the month of being bedridden, which is what's causing the pain. You'll have to build your strength up again bit by bit, and that will be a slow, difficult process."

Itachi inclined his head, taking it in. For the first time, he looked down at himself and noticed the almost completely wasted muscles in his arms, chest, and legs. Even his back could barely support his weight. He was no stranger to pain, but this was the worst he had ever experienced. A slight frown furrowed the elder Uchiha's brow as he concentrated harder, fighting the sedative effects of the medication. His right leg…there was strange deep, intractable stiffness inside the muscle and bone, that went beyond the intensity of the aches everywhere else. And as he looked down again, Itachi could see the tremors that raced through his left arm, causing his fingers to twitch spasmodically. When he tried to curl his hand into a fist, bend his arm, and stretch his fingers, the limb and joints refused to cooperate.

Itachi glanced over at Konan and Kisame, hiding the sudden stab of worry that he felt. "Temporary?" he asked, hating that he had been robbed of his customary articulatory abilities, even if it was just for a short time. His throat felt raw, his voice rough with lack of use, but he pressed on, forcing it to comply. "Until muscle tone returns?"

Konan shook her head slowly, and in an atypical show of emotion, her blue eyes shone with remorse. "I don't know. There was nerve damage. Kisame said it looked like it must have been sustained as a result of the explosion that finally knocked you and Sasuke unconscious – you were flung several feet back, and landed at an odd angle against a solid stone wall. I did all that I could to mitigate the damage, but it was good that Kisame moved as fast as he did. Any longer and there might have been actual limb paralysis." She paused thoughtfully. "Not to mention death from excessive internal and external bleeding." After patting Kisame on the arm, she took his bottle of medicine and glided over to the counter, busying herself rearranging things.

Kisame still looked slightly apprehensive, when Itachi met his gaze. He was still taken aback by what his partner had done. Kisame had never disobeyed one of his orders before. His loyalty was unsurpassed. And yet, he had taken it upon himself to do this… _But if your roles were reversed, what would you have done? _he asked himself. _Could I have brought myself to kill Kisame, even if I had promised him I would, if there was a way that he could be saved? _Itachi sighed. He had never truly understood the weight of the promise he had asked Kisame to make until now, and he looked up at his partner. "I don't know what to say," he managed quietly.

"Try 'thank you'," Konan suggested dryly, her back still to them.

Kisame coughed to hide a laugh, while Itachi raised an eyebrow at them. "I did what I thought was right, kid," the Mist missing-nin replied at last, averting his eyes. "Just like you did."

It took an effort to move his uncooperative left arm and had, but after several moments, Itachi was able to reach out and pat Kisame's hand once. "I can't fault you for that," he said softly, before breaking out in a coughing fit due to the exertion of so much effort.

Even that short conversation with Konan and Kisame left Itachi drained, and shortly afterward, he drifted off to sleep. The very next morning, despite Konan's protestations, he drafted and began a self-imposed rehabilitation program. The first order of business was re-learning how to walk properly. He had been alarmed at the extent of how much he had lost. His drills were excruciating and sapped him of nearly all of his energy, but Itachi slowly, painstakingly paced the length of his room over and over again, clutching the wall for support, for hours at a time, ignoring his own exhaustion, until his legs could finally support his own weight again. Even then, the damage to his right leg left him with a heavy limp.

During breaks, when he lay down and propped it up on a pillow, Itachi sometimes caught himself staring at the leg ruefully. He remembered that when he had taught Sakura to dance like the princess and the samurai in her favorite book, he had complimented her on the grace of her moments. Sakura had scoffed disbelievingly, linking her arms around his shoulders and pressing her head against his chest. "Graceful? Me? You have to be joking. I mean, have you ever looked at yourself? I can never even sneak up on you, and you…you're, like, a panther or something. You're the _embodiment _of grace. You could have been, like, a dancer or something if the whole shinobi deal hadn't worked out."

He had been flattered at her words, but laughed a little all the same, imagining his father's reaction if he had ever told him that he wanted to be a dancer and not a shinobi. Now, Itachi just tried to move his foot, and refrain from thinking about the irony of it all. At least he could walk – he would never run again; never leap through the branches of the trees at tremendous speeds, feeling the wind against his face and whipping through his hair…well, he would probably never even walk very fast, but this was infinitely better than the alternative. And his left arm was in many ways nonfunctional for anything more than the most basic activities. Building up strength in his arms, chest, and back was a terrible struggle because of this. Konan and even Kisame flatly refused to give him any real weights, but as long as he had the walls and the floor, he could do push-ups. It was better than nothing, but by night, even that meager activity left him utterly depleted.

Itachi lay in bed, exhausted, muscles throbbing from head to toe. He refused to allow himself to become disheartened or frustrated by the nature of this work, or his current circumstances, and in mid-thought, he realized that he had forgotten to draw the curtains over the window while he had been up – but it was no matter. He had a beautiful view of the starry night sky. Not for the first time, his thoughts automatically drifted to Sasuke and Sakura…and Naruto; their little team reunited once again, for the first time in so long. They must be happy to be in one another's company, and Itachi's lips curved upward in a tired smile. He wondered if they were training together, under this same gorgeous night sky, or eating dinner at that ramen stand he heard Naruto was so fond of. Jiraiya had assured him that Sasuke would be pardoned for deserting Konoha, as he had killed Orochimaru. He hoped fervently that Sasuke had adjusted to being in the village again…but then again, Sakura and Naruto would be a tremendous help to him.

The thought of the three of them – so young and talented, with brilliant futures ahead of them – provided some solace, even punctuated as it was with the same pain that he felt every time he thought of Sakura, which he did at least several times a day. All of the breath left Itachi's body in a quiet, regretful sigh, as he closed his eyes. The last thing that he wondered before sleep claimed him was if on nights like these, which they had loved to share together, Sakura ever thought of him – ever remembered him fondly – at all.

* * *

_Konoha_

* * *

Sakura was back in the Uchiha compound.

She followed Itachi as he made his way through there, on that fateful night. She watched him cut down his paternal grandfather, tears shining in his dark gray eyes as he did it. He had adored his grandfather as a child, because he'd been the only one besides his mother to secretly give him sweets. But his grandfather was also the one who was most responsible for convincing his father to stage the coup now and to not back down or lose his nerve, regardless of the consequences; regardless of the ensuing bloodshed.

Once his grandfather had fallen, Itachi went upstairs to his grandmother – helpless and bedridden, recuperating after a bad break to her hip earlier this month. Sakura stayed beside the dying elderly man. "Why did you do it?" she cried. "This is the price for your stupid ambitions – and look at the price _he _had to pay, look at what his life is going to become because of you, and he never wanted any of it! Why wasn't being the most powerful, prestigious clan in Konoha enough for you?

He stared up at her helplessly, the blood bubbling from his throat, and Sakura watched, horrified, as the life left his eyes. She staggered backward, and—

"Sakura! _Sakura!"_

Hands on her, pressing into her upper arms, touching her throat to check the pulse point. Sakura's eyes snapped open and she jerked awake, disoriented. She was lying on the floor in front of the shelf where she had found the scrolls, curled into a tight, uncomfortable ball around them. The disguised Shizune knelt above her, face pale and dark eyes large with worry. "Are you all right?" she asked urgently, easing the stiff girl upright. "It's a little before sunrise – Tsunade-shishou was so worried when you didn't return last night – she thought you might have been captured, so she sent me to check—"

Sakura stood up with difficulty, shaking her head to clear it as she clutched the scrolls with a white-knuckled grip. She had been so heartbroken and overwrought last night – she must have collapsed where she sat, after crying herself into abject exhaustion. _Stupid, _she cursed herself for the thousandth time, before looking over at Shizune, who was still watching her warily. "I'm sorry, I – I just need to see Tsunade-shishou right now."

Shizune wordlessly reached out a hand to her, and when Sakura took it, she felt the pulse of chakra travel all the way up her arm. In the next second, she and Shizune were standing in Tsunade's office in Hokage Tower. Tsunade had obviously been pacing; when she caught sight of them, she stopped dead. "What in the kami's name, Sakura?" she asked angrily. "I understand that you were searching, but when I didn't hear back from you after midnight, I started to think—"

"I'm so sorry, shishou," Sakura murmured remorsefully, bowing. "I didn't think."

"Damn right you didn't." Tsunade's gaze focused on the scrolls she held, and her eyes narrowed. "Is that—"

Sakura lay the scrolls side by side on her shishou's desk. They looked so innocent. "Yes. And more."

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, and she picked up the newer scroll – the one with the information on Danzou's plot – and unrolled it. Her expression got darker the further her eyes traveled down the scroll. Finally, she tied it up again, somehow holding on to her composure, and handed the scroll over to Shizune, who had come to stand at her side. "You know where the paperwork is," she said, her voice tight with anger. "Draw up the warrant for Danzou's arrest. The charges will be evident after you read the document. Let's gut this bastard."

Shizune nodded her assent and left quickly, and Tsunade glanced from her remaining apprentice to the scroll left on her desk. "And what is this? Is it something of Danzou's?"

Sakura couldn't bring herself to form the words; bile rose in her throat again at the mere thought. "I…can't explain it," she said, her throat tight.

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, but she reached for the scroll nevertheless. Sakura's gaze dropped to the rug beneath her feet as she heard the whisper of the rice paper. She felt the same knot in her stomach, the same queasy nausea, now as she had when she had read it herself for the first time. The heavy silence in the office seemed to stretch on forever, until finally, there was a soft thud. She glanced up, startled, to find that the scroll had fallen out of Tsunade's shaking hand, and collided with the desk.

When their gazes met, Sakura could see that the Hokage looked as shocked and disgusted as she felt. All the color had drained out of her face; it was one of the few times she had ever seen her shishou lose her composure like this, and she opened her mouth, worried. Before she could speak, though, Tsunade sat down in her chair heavily. She pressed the tips of her fingers to her temples, obviously overwhelmed by thoughts Sakura couldn't begin to guess at. "The file…" she murmured at last, closing her eyes out of revulsion. "This means…it was all lies…engineered by the Third, Danzou, and the Council…"

Sakura nodded mechanically, feeling dangerously numb, inside and out. "He was good all along," she said flatly. "Everything he did…he was just a shinobi following orders, just like the rest of us. It was for the good of the village, they said. He had no choice. If he had refused, they would have killed him and sent someone else to kill the whole clan. It was the only way for him. And now he's dead."

Tsunade looked up sharply as the full, awful realization of it hit her. _Of course_, she thought, around the sick, sinking sensation in her chest. For her, it was a gross miscarriage of justice, an abomination that she would never have allowed as Hokage…but for Sakura, there was a painfully more personal significance to this. Her apprentice, dressed in the borrowed ANBU gear, was pale, her eyes bloodshot and silvery tear tracks visible on her face. The last time she had seen Sakura looking so drawn and heartbroken was when she, she _herself, _had told her the so-called _truth _about Itachi. It was almost enough to turn her stomach. She remembered, as though it had been yesterday, Sakura's horror and disbelief when she had given her that file. She had found out that the man she loved was a notorious criminal and mass murderer, despised in her beloved hometown, and she had turned against him completely, regardless of the feelings she had once had for him. And now, to discover that all that had been a lie…Tsunade's head ached, but she tried hard to find words that would be some small comfort, rising from her seat and coming to stand beside her student. Sakura's shoulder trembled when she put her hand on it.

"We didn't know, Sakura," Tsunade said quietly, urgently. "There was no way we could have possibly guessed that _this _was the reason behind…what had happened. We were all deceived, through no fault of our own."

"So many times," Sakura sniffled, lifting a hand to wipe at her eyes angrily. Her voice was barely audible. "I should have suspected – I…I was the only one who knew him, really, afterwards. I should have trusted my instincts and my doubts when they told me that the Itachi I had come to know wasn't the kind of person who would do something so terrible." She took a deep breath, struggling to keep her emotions under control, as she turned away, trembling even harder now. "If I had gone searching for the truth earlier, I could have changed things! Maybe I could even have stopped him – but – but it's too late, now, and there's nothing I can do…"

The words were overwhelmingly bitter and anguished, and Tsunade knew Sakura; knew that there was nothing her student hated more than feeling helpless or like a failure. She gently took the girl's limp, cold hand and led her to the desk, easing her down into one of the chairs, before taking a seat across from her. Sakura stared fixatedly at the lamp in the corner, blinking frequently, and the Hokage cleared her throat softly, trying to get her attention. "Sakura, listen to me."

The pink-haired kunoichi looked up at her with reddened eyes, and Tsunade sighed, hating that she had to say this. Her student wasn't the only one with regrets – as the next Hokage of Konoha after the Sandaime, how could she have never found out the truth about the Uchiha massacre? She had been aware of Root's unsavory reputation; upon taking office, she should have insisted upon a full review of her archives. It had been an unforgivable oversight on her part, and now there was no going back. "It is too late for Itachi. That much is true. But I ask you, Sakura, what did Itachi want most, at the very end?"

"He wanted for Sasuke to be safe, back in Konoha," she replied tearfully. "Always."

Tsunade nodded sadly. "Yes. None of us can turn back time and do what we think should have been done, but you can honor Itachi's memory by making sure that goal of his is achieved."

She gave Sakura the rest of the day off work, saying that she was in no condition to perform any sort of medical duties after the night she'd had. The pink-haired kunoichi returned to her apartment in a daze, thinking on her shishou's last words. She made her way through the apartment as if in a trance, hardly able to see for the tears that clouded her vision. _I wish I hadn't burned everything he had touched, _she thought miserably. _And I wish I hadn't thrown out the necklace and the gloves. _She wanted something of Itachi's to hold; something that his hands had touched. It took several minutes before she remembered the ancient book of medical ninjutsu that he had given her; the one she had used to track down his scent during the mission. Sakura pulled it out of her summoning scroll and sat on her bed, holding it close to her chest and taking deep, shuddering breaths. It was just a small, meager comfort, true, but it was better than nothing.

And what Tsunade-shishou had said, as well…it was too little, too late, but if in some way, she could make up for the horrible last things she had said to him…she would do it. She would do _anything._ Itachi had sacrificed so much for Sasuke, and that sacrifice couldn't be in vain. Sakura felt her resolve harden, even as her throat closed over again at the memory of him. She _would _bring Sasuke back to Konoha, if it was the last thing she did. She promised it; she swore it, and she wondered if Itachi could feel it and her countless apologies, where he was. It was the least she could do for him.

* * *

_Sand, Five Months Later_

* * *

There were twenty major differences between the chunin exams and the jounin exams.

All of them made Sakura think back on her fourteen-year-old self's memories, about the chunin exams being _difficult_…and then she wanted to laugh hysterically at her own folly. It was just her luck, too, that this cycle of the exams was being held in Sand, and historically, the jounin exams that took place in Sand, Rock, and Cloud were the most difficult to pass. Tsunade-shishou had assured her that she had the utmost confidence that she would make it, which was why she had recommended her in the first place.

_Don't let her down, _Sakura thought to herself fiercely, sweat beading on her forehead as the brutal sun beat down on her from above. The sound of the stadium's crowd, packed to capacity, faded into a distant drone as she made her way into the center of the stadium for her combat match.

One of the foremost differences between the chunin and jounin exams was that in the latter, there was no break between the second and third rounds. Just two hours earlier, she had emerged – bruised, battered, and exhausted to the bone – from three days in a desert arena that made Konoha's Forest of Death look like child's play. She was tired. Her strength was depleted. She was running on next to no sleep. Her adrenaline had mostly burnt itself out in the arena.

Sakura blinked up at her opponent when he came to join her in the center of the ring. It was a struggle to keep her face a blank, expressionless mask, while the proctor began to recite the rules for the combat matches. Theirs was the very first round – a blessing and a curse all at once. Her opponent was a Sand shinobi a few years her senior. He towered about one foot over her and outweighed her by a little more than one hundred pounds, all of which was solid muscle. He looked like a brute; like he wanted to snap her in half like a twig. His name was Riyu Chang, and she'd heard that he had killed a giant desert tiger that had attacked him in the arena with just his bare hands. Apparently all bets were on him, regardless of the opponent he would face. His nickname was "The Crusher," and he glowered down at her, probably planning exactly how he was going to strike and crush her into oblivion the second the proctor hit the gong.

Sakura shook the useless thoughts away sharply. _Focus! _she ordered herself. _Plan. _But summoning her chakra was harder than it normally was, and even her mind wasn't working as quickly and efficiently as it normally did. She had _no idea _which of her seven most effective potential attacks she was going to use, and time was running out fast. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep. Her mind felt more muddled by the second, and it was so hot… _This is not good! _Inner Sakura screeched at her, trying and failing to whip her up and motivate her. _Think!_

The beginning was mere seconds away. When Sakura made eye contact with the Sand shinobi again, she was mildly surprised to see that it was no longer Riyu Chang. It was Danzou, the Council of Elders, and the Sandaime that stared back at her, holding out the scroll that held the orders that would define Itachi's life, and end so many others. _This is the only way, _they told her.

Sakura's eyes narrowed minutely, her hands curling into fists. The rage that bubbled to the surface inside of her broke the barriers of lethargy, physical and mental, that held her back. Suddenly, she didn't feel exhausted anymore, as she stared back at Danzou's mocking face. Imprisonment wasn't enough. Some of Tsunade-shishou's supporters were asking for his death, but even that wouldn't bring Itachi and Sasuke and the rest of the Uchiha clan back. But that didn't change the fact that she still wanted to throttle him to within an inch of his life.

The gong cut through the air like a knife. Before the sound had even finished reverberating through the air, Sakura slammed one chakra-laden foot into the ground beneath her. The earth wrenched violently, sending massive shock waves outward, as wide fissures erupted in the ground, throwing giant boulders into the air. Riyu Chang lurched forward, momentarily thrown off balance by the turbulence underneath his feet, and in the next instant, Sakura's fist collided with his jaw. His head flew to the side, his neck cracking audibly, and he was thrown twenty-five feet through the air. When he hit the solid concrete wall, he didn't get up.

Several moments of confusion followed. Sakura stared, breathing hard, fists still clenched, the blood pounding in her ears, as the medics finally carried her opponent out. She barely heard the roars of the crowd of the crowd as the proctor lifted her fist and declared her the winner.

* * *

Sakura's first mission as a jounin was exactly one month later. It was an assassination of a notoriously corrupt politician in the Land of Tea. These were her least favorite kind of mission, but she could no longer be picky, now. At least she had mostly overcome her anxiety about solo missions. Still, all things said and done, this type of mission…it was _murder, _and though it was what all shinobi did…maybe it was the fact that she was a medic-nin that explained her aversion to it. _Duty calls, _Sakura thought a little bitterly, as she stepped, silent as a ghost, into the tea garden behind the politician's house. It was what they did. Honorable shinobi always followed orders, no matter how terrible they found them on a personal level.

Even so many months later, the thought of Itachi still caused a painful twinge in her heart. The silent serenity of the just-before-dawn morning made the lavish beauty of the tea garden even more striking. It was the kind of place he would have loved.

Sakura struggled to banish the thoughts and regain her focus. They still hadn't come anywhere close to finding Sasuke. It was like he had just dropped off the face of the earth in the aftermath of his battle with Itachi. Once the thought would have caused her some amusement, but now there was nothing but distress. Regardless of her personal feelings, she still had a promise to fulfill. _I'll go on another search for intelligence next week, while I check on those new leads I found on my parents, _she thought to herself, as she stepped behind the cover of a weeping willow tree. The sweet-scented cream flowers were in full bloom, and they allowed her a decent view of the small adjacent tea house the target always went to, just before dawn, to drink, meditate, and watch the sun rise. The tree's long, sweeping branches also served to hide her from view as well.

Sakura narrowed her eyes at the tea house, wishing for the millionth time that she had the Hyuuga bloodline limit. The windows were covered, but she could faintly discern a silhouette behind the thin rice paper shades. There was one figure in view, someone standing near the back of the room. The pink-haired kunoichi frowned as she eyed the silhouette again. The description of the target put him at five feet and seven inches tall, with a slender build. Yet the person that she saw now was more than a foot taller, and _big _as well. Tsunade-shishou had told her that this politician was extremely paranoid, and had ensured that only he had the key to his personal little retreat. Something wasn't right here.

Sakura paused for a moment, engaged a genjutsu that left her effectively invisible to the human eye, and then slipped out from the shelter of the tree, stealthily making her way over to the tea house.

* * *

In a career that spanned close to two decades, this had been his first time using poison.

And Kisame did _not _like it. Sure, it was cleaner and sometimes quicker, depending, and some would consider it a damn sight easier as well…but it was just _unsatisfying. _The clients had insisted on it, and provided him with the poison themselves, but personally, he preferred using Samehada any day. Killing just wasn't the same when a powdery substance did the job for you.

Kisame sighed ruefully, casting a dispassionate look at the dead politician crumpled on the floor and shoved into a corner. Well, in any case, the fees for this mission had been exorbitant. Not bad for a couple hours' work. A small smirk touched his lips as he surveyed the politician's sake and tea selection. This was a cute little building, and well stocked, too. And now, to reward himself for a job well done…

He plucked several expensive, exotic-flavored tea bags and stuck them in the inner pocket of his cloak to give to Itachi later. His partner would appreciate them, although if he had been here, he wouldn't have approved of this little excursion. Kisame chuckled at the thought of the look on Itachi's face, as he measured himself a glass of vintage sake. It was extraordinarily sweet in his mouth, and he gave a sigh of pleasure that drowned out the soft sound of a senbon in the lock, and masked the telltale, warning shudder that ran through Samehada.

But then he felt a sudden draft on his back, and Kisame whirled around, the sake forgotten, to see the door standing ajar, pushed open by some unseen force. His hand was on the hilt of his sword in the blink of an eye – and even as he prepared himself for the fight, the very air around him shifted, growing less charged, as the intruder released the genjutsu.

And when he came face-to-face with Sakura, Kisame truly couldn't tell which of them was more shocked.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

I really, sincerely want to thank all of you for reading and following this story, and for sticking with it for so long. Updates have been slower than I expected, and writing this whole project has taken longer than I planned – between taking classes over the summer, and that I'm taking five intensely difficult classes this semester, and I work every weekend. I try my best to write a lot during what little free time I have, but it's still slow going, slower than completing my other fics have been. I so, so much appreciate your patience and your continued interest through it all. :) Especially since Itachi and Sakura have been separated from each other for so long – but hey, it looks like that might change soon, right?

Funny story – when I originally came up with the idea for this fic, even before I wrote Lost and Found, my initial plan was that Itachi would die and Sakura would discover the truth too late, and eventually use Sasuke for a weak substitution. It was big on the tragedy factor! A lot of Sakura's mourning at Itachi's "death" was directly taken from that outline. But I decided against it by the time I actually started writing the story in January. It seemed too unnecessarily cruel. I hope that you all like this version better. :)


	16. The Reunion, Part II

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was awesome enough to leave a review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Sixteen: The Reunion, Part II_

* * *

There were about one hundred thoughts that simultaneously raced across Kisame's mind in the instant that Sakura revealed herself to him. When Itachi had first told him that their teammate's memories were returning, and that he had to return her to Konoha immediately, Kisame had thought – as he downed shot after shot of sake – that he hoped he would never see her again in his life. As fond as he had become of the little pink-haired kunoichi, he'd understood that if they ever saw one another again, it would be from across enemy lines. And that wouldn't end well for either of them.

He couldn't read the expression on Sakura's face as she watched him, still obviously stunned, but her muscles had tensed up quickly; she was poised and ready to spring into action if the occasion called for it. The young woman that stood before him now was a far cry from the happy, innocent teenager that Kisame remembered. The wary, guarded look in her eyes was one thing, but her hair had grown even longer and had been swept back into a ponytail, and the band tied around her upper arm marked her as a jounin. The power and chakra that radiated off her was tangible and far greater than what he remembered – perhaps because it was unrestrained, now. This Sakura remembered the monstrous chakra-enhanced strength and deadly medical ninjutsu that gave her the reputation as one of Konoha's most powerful kunoichi.

Yet Kisame couldn't bring himself to feel truly apprehensive, regardless of the circumstances. _Fool, _an inner voice snapped at him sharply. _She killed Sasori. And that was when she was younger and much less experienced. _But it didn't matter. He had the edge and the speed born out of almost a decade more experience. He could unsheathe Samehada and attack before she could even blink—

Could he? _Would _he? Of course he would. How many times had he been surprised at his affection for her, back at the base, when he had thought that if he had met Sakura for the first time on the battlefield, he would have had no compunction about cutting her in half? But it was easier said than done, now, and Kisame actually felt beads of sweat forming on his skin, beneath his cloak. If she attacked him first, he would have no choice. She could very well consider him an enemy now. He didn't know the exact details, but he had guessed that Itachi and Sakura hadn't parted on the best of terms – she saw both of them as enemies. So if she did make a move—

Sakura's eyes narrowed suddenly, and oddly enough, Kisame remembered with a jolt that it had been him who had first told her that lie, so many months ago, when she had regained consciousness after her head injury. His words, chosen in a moment of panic and surprise, had set all of this in motion. Yes, he remembered. And he felt a creeping, cold and absolute certainty that she did, too.

She stepped forward then, without warning, and Kisame had time for one brief, bitter question of _why _it had to be this way, and what would he possibly tell Itachi, before he reached for his sword.

And that was when Sakura flung her arms around him in an embrace.

A gentle embrace, not a rib-splintering death grip; her frail, delicate arms could hardly reach all the way around him. She pressed her head against his chest and said his name, her small voice choked with emotion and muffled against his Akatsuki cloak, and Kisame stared down at the top of her head, shocked beyond belief. His limbs felt numb from the abrupt release of tension, but he was finally able to move them – to pat her on the back somewhat awkwardly, as gently as he could. The sense of disbelief he felt was nearly overwhelming. He had most definitely not been expecting _this. _"There, there, kid," Kisame mumbled, his throat feeling oddly constricted, and his chest full of some emotion he couldn't name. "It's okay. Don't cry."

Sakura nodded several times, but it was a while before she finally pulled back, blinking up at him with reddened eyes. "Kisame, I'm happy to see you, but – what are you doing here?" she asked, obviously confused. "I'm here for a mission, I had to—"

She gave a slight squeak as Kisame stepped aside, giving her an unencumbered view of the politician's dead body, which had been unceremoniously shoved into a corner. He snorted with amusement at her reaction. Sakura may have looked different, but in some ways, she still seemed to be as expressive as he remembered. "Wouldn't be the first time clients hire two shinobi for the same job," he said gruffly. "In case one fails or is captured, the other can still carry out the mission. That's especially important for something like this."

"Still, what a coincidence," Sakura replied shakily, before a little bit of the old fire returned to her eyes. She gave him a sharp prod in the ribs. "You're lucky it was me that showed up and not someone else from Konoha! What are you doing, sticking around at the scene to have some drinks? You idiot! Did you learn anything at the Academy, or are you going senile with old age?"

Kisame just grinned his shark-like grin, utterly unfazed by the chastising. He would never admit it, but he had missed Sakura's company, and her outspokenness. Itachi was a very different kind of companion. "Oh, so you do care? There is a soft heart under that unbecomingly aggressive personality?"

"Of course I care," Sakura sniffed. "It's a joke to you, but…" she hesitated briefly, visibly torn. "ANBU Team One has been tasked with hunting you down. They weren't given the option to take you dead or alive_, _since we know that you're the member of Akatsuki least likely to break under interrogation. It's an elimination mission only, since they determined that you're the most dangerous member who's…still alive. There have been a lot of _shark-fin _soup jokes told around the village since it got out who their target was."

Kisame scoffed, unconcerned. Still, he was touched that she would want to warn him, despite the obvious conflict in loyalty. "They can search for me all they want for the rest of the year. They won't ever come even close. As a matter of fact…" he indicated the low tea table. "How about a drink, kid? You interrupted me earlier, and they have some of that jasmine tea you like."

Sakura looked appalled, as she cast a paranoid look around the small tea room and the surrounding grounds, including the main house, visible in the distance. "Are you out of your mind?" she hissed.

Kisame coughed to mask a chuckle, remembered of the thought he'd once had…that one of the reasons Itachi had been so taken with Sakura was that she always said and physically expressed what he suspected his partner was secretly thinking, behind that withdrawn, reserved demeanor of his. "Your precious ANBU Team One won't break down the windows and the doors and attack us while we sit, I assure you. And it's still before dawn. The household won't be up for another hour." When Sakura still visibly hesitated, he rolled his eyes. "It's either this or we go to one of the tea shops in town. I'm sure _that _would be an interesting sight – you never know who would see…"

Sakura winced at the thought of being sighted and having the incident reported to her shishou. A loyal kunoichi of Konoha, seen in public having tea with one of the most wanted members of the Akatsuki? That wouldn't do. At all. She sat grudgingly, trying not to look at the dead body in the corner as Kisame moved around the small room, clattering around as he made the tea. The sound was painfully reminiscent of all the mornings in the kitchen of their – the Akatsuki base, where she, Itachi, and Kisame would take turns making tea for one another. Itachi had always been notoriously picky, and she used to chide Kisame every single day for putting too much sugar in the tea he made for himself. _"It's not healthy! Do you want to get diabetes? Do you?"_

Sakura blinked to dispel the memories, shaking her head slightly. On the other side of the room, Kisame was swearing floridly under his breath, evidently having burned himself on the kettle. It was something she had seen and heard a million times before – and something she'd never imagined she would see again. Her shock upon coming face-to-face with Kisame had been all-consuming.

It was true that Itachi dominated the majority of her thoughts, but over the past several months, Kisame had been on her mind as well…especially after she'd found out about the elite team ordered to hunt him down. When she had first laid eyes on him – well, part of her had been afraid that he was going to attack, at first. Sakura had ruled that out after a brief study of his arm tension, but still… Surprisingly enough, the thought of entering combat hadn't seriously crossed her mind. She knew now, as she hadn't before, that Kisame was an enemy to her village; that he too had been intimately involved in the deceit of those seven months.

And yet, Sakura understood now that underneath all of that, it was still the same Kisame that she had known. He was honest, blunt, rough, and abrasive…and also unfailingly loyal and courageous. He cared, in his way. He had been like a sort of older brother to her. He had always teased her about her lack of height and short arms, but he'd taught her how to play pool anyway. They had spent countless hours sparring in the backyard of the base, while he gave her advice and tips, and she'd tried to explain to him how to use her super strength. She had cared about Kisame, and she wasn't willing to throw that away. She knew that she would _not _make the same mistake that she had made with Itachi.

Sakura glanced away from the window, jolted out of her reverie, as Kisame set the steaming hot cup of fragrant tea down in front of her. The sun was beginning to rise over the mountains now, and delicate rays of faint golden light began to pool on the dark cherry wood of the table. She smiled up at him as he took a seat across from her. Instead of tea, the Mist missing-nin characteristically enough had a shot and a bottle of sake in his hand. "Drinking on the job? Some things never change."

Kisame toasted her with a grin. "I remember that it was you who once made several rude comments about me being old and set in my ways."

"True." Sakura sipped her tea, looking him over. Kisame seemed like he was in pretty good shape, and she felt her shoulders relax a little. She had been so anxious after hearing about the team sent out to pursue him – she had forgotten that she used to think that he was indestructible. "You look well, though."

"Always the tone of surprise," he teased, tossing back his shot. "It's as if you expected me to die of hypertension or have a massive heart attack without you around to constantly nag me about eating my vegetables every day. But you look good too, kid. Congratulations on the promotion. You're young for it."

"Not that young," Sakura rolled her eyes. "I'll be eighteen next week. Speaking of _young_, though…how's your sister, by the way? Have you been back to visit?"

Kisame gave a massive, exasperated sigh as he set his glass back on the table. "You won't believe it. I went back to find out that the brat ran away from home to the mainland to start shinobi training. Made chunin already."

Sakura shook her head, amazed. "I told you that you wouldn't be able to stop her from doing it. She sounds just like you, honestly. So I thought you, of all people, would understand – I never knew why you were so resistant to the idea of her becoming a shinobi."

Kisame shrugged, looking thoughtful. "It was the right choice for me. I know she has the talent for it, but that's not the thing. You know what it's like. And in Mist, it's even more brutal. It's just not a path that I ever wanted her to travel." He laughed suddenly, and a little bitterly. "Listen to me. You can tell that the nine years of having Itachi as a partner has had an influence on the way I think."

He noticed, too late, that Sakura flinched almost imperceptibly at the mention of Itachi's name. She looked determinedly into her cup of tea, before lifting it up and taking a sip, so her bangs fell forward and hid her face. Kisame cursed his big mouth, at a loss for something to say. He remembered, again, the night several months ago that his partner had returned from his last meeting with Sakura. Itachi had looked worse than he had ever seen him, his eyes unmistakably reddened. Though he had been terribly curious – and concerned as well – he had never dared ask exactly what happened. It was just evident that they had parted on bad terms, which had to be painful for both of them. They had both loved one another deeply, but these circumstances…they could drive anybody apart.

Kisame reached out, patting Sakura's clenched hand gingerly. "I'm sorry, kid," he apologized, a little uncomfortably. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

Sakura blinked several times, still staring intently into her cup of tea, and Kisame was startled to see her eyes slowly filling up with tears. "You didn't do anything wrong," she said, her voice unsteady and barely audible. "It's all my fault. I don't know if he ever told you, but the very last time we saw each other – I said some really terrible, cruel, awful things to him. I – I understand now what he was trying to say to me; why he couldn't risk taking me back to Konoha. I found out the truth, you know, about what happened with his family." She took a deep, shuddering breath, her shoulders trembling with emotion as she looked out of the window. "But it's too late now. If I had known when I had last seen him – but I didn't, and the things I said and did…I'll never forgive myself for hurting him so badly. And now I can never make things right again."

She wiped away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks, even though more were still welling up in her eyes. Kisame watched, momentarily lost for words. So _that _was what had happened. He could understand why Sakura felt guilty. However…he also knew Itachi well enough to say that her words were partly unfounded. Itachi's feelings for her hadn't dulled over the months that had passed. He still missed her deeply and thought of her often; that much was obvious. From what he could see now, Sakura still cared for Itachi as well. If they just happened to cross paths again, now that the truth was out, chances were that they would happily fall back into each other's arms just like every other pair of star-crossed lovers in history.

He had suggested to Itachi, once they had moved out of the Akatsuki headquarters in Rain, that he try to find Sakura. It would be easy enough. His partner had always stubbornly refused, saying that nothing would come out of it, before he went to mope in a corner again. It was frustrating, how stubborn and pigheaded he was. Nobody could change his mind once he had it made up…

An idea suddenly occurred to Kisame. However, if Sakura just happened to show up at his door… Over the years, he had become just as adept at reading body language as Itachi was. He could see, without question, that she could be trusted with the truth.

Kisame cleared his throat gruffly, feeling very pleased with what he was about to do. "I wouldn't say _never, _kid."

"Don't try and make me feel better, Kisame," Sakura sniffled. "Itachi is dead. I know that. I'll never get the chance to apologize and tell him that I understand. He asked for my forgiveness, and now he has it a thousand times over. I'll never be able to tell him that. Not in this lifetime, at least."

_Ah. _Kisame froze. He had briefly forgotten that Konoha was operating under the mistaken assumption that Sasuke had killed Itachi at the Uchiha outpost so long ago. No wonder Sakura had been so anguished when she had been talking to him just now. Well. _That _would certainly make breaking the news a little more difficult. After all, delicacy had never been his strong point.

Sakura must have read the expression on his face, because she made a small, sad sound in the back of her throat, pushing her cup of tea away. "I'm sorry. You must hate me for being so blind – I know you and Itachi were close."

"No, no," Kisame said hastily, and then he coughed, wishing very much that he had another full shot of sake in front of him. Oh, this was going to be _bad. _"Actually…about that…"

Sakura tilted her head to the side, peering at him curiously. "About what?"

There was no way to dance around it. He felt rather overheated underneath the Akatsuki cloak. Sakura was either going to beat him into a pulp, start crying again, faint, or scream at him for not telling her immediately, and he felt utterly ill-equipped to deal with any of those things. "About…the whole _dead _thing," Kisame replied, somewhat lamely.

It took a few moments for the words to register, and immediately after that, she thought she had misheard or misunderstood him, because… Sakura felt as though something had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. It was difficult to speak; she felt a strange sense of disconnect spread throughout her body. She narrowed her eyes at the abashed-looking shinobi in front of her. "What are you trying to say?" she asked, her voice imbued with an icy, removed calm that she most certainly did not feel.

Kisame Hoshigaki, one of the most feared and brutal missing-nin in the world, actually ducked his head momentarily under her gaze. "Itachi's not dead," he admitted softly, but the words were clear, distinct, unmistakable. "He never was. It – it looked close, after the battle, but I couldn't give up on him. I took him to Konan, the Leader's partner. It took over a month, but she managed to heal him. Nobody else knows, besides the Leader, Konan, and I. We wanted Konoha to think that he was dead, so they would close his file permanently and take him off the most-wanted list, and call off all the hunter teams. This would give him the time and security to recover in a safe place." Kisame's unusually serious gaze met hers. "He's…he's alive, Sakura. I don't know if you could call him _well, _but he's alive."

Sakura felt the world spinning around her, and she gripped the edge of the table with a white-knuckled hand to keep herself from collapsing. When Kakashi-sensei had told them that Itachi was dead, the words had felt like a chakra-laden blow to the face. Perversely enough, the shattering intensity of the shock that threatened to consume her now, was even worse. "What?" she asked, not recognizing her own voice. It couldn't be. This had to be some kind of cruel, sick joke. Maybe to lure her into the hands of the Akatsuki. A clever trap. Kakashi-sensei had said…he had sensed the extreme degree of blood loss; the fading chakra signature…

But Kisame was staring at her sympathetically, and he wouldn't lie about this. Not about Itachi. Not him, of all people. She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath, conscious of the tremors that wracked her body. She tried to speak – to demand details of what had happened; to ask about Itachi's current condition; to yell at him for being an idiot and not telling her the second they had laid eyes on each other – but her throat had closed over, and then she could do nothing more than exhale in a long, shuddering half-sigh, half-sob, and bury her face in her hands, utterly overwhelmed.

It took several minutes for Sakura to calm down somewhat, and when she did – looking up at Kisame, who had been patting her on the shoulder with surprising gentleness – she didn't even have to open her mouth again. "I'm sorry, kid," he told her quietly. "I'm even ready for the merciless beating you'll give me the next time we see each other. But for now…" – he grinned, exposing his rows of shark-like teeth once again – "…do you want to know where to find him?"

* * *

_Wave Country_

* * *

_One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three._

Itachi sliced the eggplant slowly, carefully. The knife made a satisfying _thunk _on the cutting board as it sliced through the vegetable, and he focused on the rhythmic, repetitive sound intently. That often helped control the tremors, which was essential when he was doing this kind of work. At first he had tried holding the vegetables or meat with his bad arm and wielding the knife with the good one – but that hadn't afforded him the necessary stability, and he had come close to chopping his finger off anyway.

The days when he had been able to fillet a fresh fish or chop a large amount of vegetables in a mere two minutes were definitely gone. Once simple tasks like cooking dinner had become quite laborious. Itachi glanced out of the window, noting the position of the sun. There were approximately one and a half hours until sunset. Kisame would be arriving by then, and hopefully the noodles would be ready at that time. He frowned slightly as he finished slicing another chunk of eggplant. The bell pepper was next, and those contours were rather more challenging.

_Still, _Itachi told himself, sliding the sliced vegetables aside for later. This was good exercise for his arm. He would not allow the muscles to atrophy. He began work on the bell pepper, struggling to exercise maximum control over his erratically trembling hand and the knife. When he looked down at his hands like this, he always remembered being very young, when his mother had stood behind him and gently guided the motions of his hands as they sliced vegetables and meat, to prepare dinner together. He had always enjoyed the rare time spent with her, but his father had disapproved enormously. _For the kami's sake, Mikoto, _he would snap at her. _Stop wasting his time with woman's work. He should be out in the practice grounds with Shisui and the other boys. He should have learned how to handle a katana by now. _

He had never dared tell his father that he preferred cooking to weapons training.

That momentary lapse of focus was all it took. Before his eyes, the knife slipped, and Itachi gave a soft hiss of pain as the cold steel sliced open the pad of his thumb. Blood bubbled up to the surface instantly, and he set down the knife and made his way to the sink as quickly as he could. Though months had passed, and despite an intensive self-designed therapy routine, his limp remained as pronounced as it had been after he had awoken from the healing. The cool water from the tap stung as it made contact with the cut, but Itachi waited patiently until most of the blood had washed away before he sealed the incision with one quick, effortless pulse of chakra. Regardless of the ease of healing, he would have to be more careful in the future.

Itachi shut off the tap, and in the instant that the sink finished draining, he heard the faint sound of the doorbell. He frowned, momentarily confused as to who it could be, as he hastily reached for a towel to dry his hands off. Kisame had his own key, and Kyoshi always knocked. She wouldn't visit now, in any case; she knew that Kisame would be gone for the day. Unless it was one of the elderly neighbors asking for help – about a week ago, one of them had locked herself out of the house and hadn't been able to reach the compartment built into the porch ceiling, where her husband had secured the spare set of keys. It had been a simple matter, for him, and Itachi was grateful that he could at least do that much. For now, though, he just hoped that he wasn't being called to fetch any irate house cats out of trees again…

His leg was throbbing mercilessly, as it did every time he tried to walk fast, by the time he reached the door. This house was much smaller than the base in Lightning, for which he was grateful, but getting around could still be a struggle. As he always did, every single time he looked at the front door, Itachi entertained the wild, irrational hope that someday, he would swing it open and find Sasuke standing on the other side. _I know the truth now, aniki, _Sasuke would say. And then he would step forward and give him a hug, like he hadn't in ten years.

It was foolish of him, he knew. It would never happen. Sasuke was in Konoha with Sakura and Naruto, blissfully unaware, and having embarked on a new life. And yet, Itachi found the thought of never seeing his little brother again unimaginably painful. It was a terrible quandary – he didn't _want _Sasuke to discover the truth; he didn't want him to feel undue anguish, but still…he missed him terribly, every moment of every day. He could always hope, though. After all, that hope gave him the strength he needed to keep going.

Itachi unlocked the door and pulled it open—

And the instinctive polite, respectful greeting died on his lips.

It had to be a genjutsu.

He hadn't activated his Sharingan in more than seven months, not since before his last fight with Sasuke. Konoha had found out that he was alive and Sakura had confessed their affair and they knew that he would have a weakness for her, and they wouldn't have risked sending her, so they used this genjutsu – and he was likely an instant away from capture or death right now, and yet he couldn't even bring himself to care, as he looked at her. He had never seen, never even cast, a replication this perfect – down to the expression in her beautiful, bright eyes. She was just as he had remembered.

It all flickered through Itachi's mind in about one second, and oddly enough, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. If this was how it had to be, if being captured by Konoha was his ultimate fate, at least he had seen her one last time.

Itachi looked even more stunned than Kisame had, when he had seen her earlier this day. Sakura could count on the fingers of one hand the times she had seen him look this openly expressive. Perversely, that was almost enough to make her want to giggle. But just the sight of him, when she had spent countless hours mourning his death – when she had just resigned herself to the fact that he was _gone _– was enough to drive all the breath from Sakura's body. She couldn't breathe in; it felt like her lungs had been compressed; all she could do was stare at the pulse point beating beneath the Itachi's neck. At the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling. He was thinner, there were shadows under his eyes, the stress lines on his face were even more pronounced than they had been before, but… _Alive, _Inner Sakura said numbly. Nothing else mattered. Although she had fully trusted Kisame – it was difficult to explain, even to herself, but the entire trip over here…she had been in a half-conscious haze of wild, intermingled doubt and fear and hope. She hadn't _truly _believed it until now. He was _alive._

Sakura wasn't even conscious of making the decision to move, until she had already tripped over the doorstep in her haste. Itachi instinctively stepped forward to steady her, and she wanted to look into his eyes and say something – to let the apology and plea for forgiveness burst out of her – but the only thing that came out was a desperate, incoherent cry. She literally threw herself into Itachi's arms instead, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in the side of his neck, embracing him with more ferocity of emotion than she had ever – _ever_ – felt in her life. Her heart pounded uncontrollably, her throat had closed over, and tears stung the back of her eyes. She could feel the tension in his muscles, and then the small, surprised hitch in his breath, as he relaxed. And then his arms came around her as well, and she clung on tighter and pressed even closer, overwhelmed. She never wanted to let go again.

And then they toppled against the opposite wall.

Sakura shrieked, startled, and managed to regain her balance quickly enough to catch Itachi, preventing him from stumbling further. "Sorry," she blurted hastily, looking up at him. How had that happened? She must have underestimated her strength; Naruto told her she did that when she wasn't paying attention. She cursed herself, hoping that Itachi hadn't interpreted it as a purposeful sort of death tackle or something. Considering the things she had said to him the last time they had seen one another, and the way she had threatened him…

Her hands were still fisted in the heavy material of Itachi's long-sleeved shirt, and she awkwardly released him. She could feel his warmth, standing this close, and Sakura's head span. Was this really happening? It felt utterly surreal. She had certainly dreamed and longed for this enough. But she had woken up this morning, a little more than twelve hours ago, back in her own bed in Konoha. Even when she had entered the tea garden in the politician's home for the first time, she had spared a few minutes to mourn Itachi and reflect on how much he would have loved it, and how she had to redouble her efforts to find Sasuke, in order to honor his memory. That had been just _this morning_…and now…she was face-to-face with him; the one person she thought she would never see again. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

And the strength of the emotions that surged forth as she looked at him…she had forgotten – she wanted to take Itachi's face in her hands and smooth them over his features, and breathe in his scent, and hear his voice. He was _really, truly alive._ "Sorry," Sakura apologized again, flustered. "I didn't mean to—"

"No," Itachi said quickly, looking as though he was slowly beginning to recover from his shock as well. He placed his hand against the wall, steadying himself. "It – it was not your doing."

The pink-haired kunoichi's eyes followed the movement, and her intuition told her that something was off. The hand Itachi used to brace himself against the wall was white and bloodless with strain, the bones in the back of his hand standing out. She could see the tendons in his wrist standing out, from where the sleeve of his shirt fell away from the skin. Something was causing him pain, but how could it have been something she had done…?

Sakura's confused gaze finally dropped lower, and when she saw what it was, her heart skipped a beat out of sheer shock. Even through the dark material of his pants, it was clearly evident that Itachi's right leg trembled visibly, looking as though it was in danger of collapsing beneath him…as it had must have done a few moments earlier, when she had embraced him with such force.

Sakura looked back up at him, stunned. Some of the joy and exhilaration that she had initially felt ebbed away. Kisame had vaguely alluded to something being wrong, but she hadn't imagined… She inspected Itachi carefully – searching for any abnormalities besides the leg – and as if he could read her mind, he self-consciously curled his left arm behind his back. She held her hand out, her mind racing. "May I?"

Itachi hesitated for a moment, but he finally moved his arm from behind his back, stretching it out. More visible tremors ran the length of the limb, causing his hand to shake and tremble, and the fingers twitched spasmodically, erratically. Sakura took a deep breath, trying to hide her initial visceral, emotional reaction. "First, if you could please curl your fingers into a fist for me. Then, bend your arm, and stretch your fingers."

It was an obvious effort to force his fingers to comply with the first demand, and although Itachi's expression was almost as flawlessly calm as always, she could see how challenging the simple task was for him. He could only bend his arm halfway, and this time, Sakura noticed a tiny shudder of pain run through his body as he did so. He was successful at stretching his fingers, even though he couldn't seem to stop the spasms.

"It is nerve damage," he told her quietly, when she was only halfway through putting together the pieces. "It afflicts this arm and the right leg. The leg does not normally spasm or shake, but there is quite acute pain and a restricted range of movement."

"Kisame mentioned that you were healed by another member of the Akatsuki," Sakura said, drawing chakra to one of her hands and rubbing it up and down Itachi's arm, trying to soothe the tremors. He looked down at her silently, drinking in the sight, and hardly able to focus on the words that came out of her mouth – because it was Sakura, _Sakura, _who had just re-entered into his life just as unexpectedly as she had entered it, the first time. And _of course _Kisame would have something to do with all of this, part of his mind spoke up dryly. They must have run into one another in the Land of Tea. Perhaps, coincidentally, Sakura had been there for a mission as well. Their paths would have crossed, and now…

It was all…it was almost disorienting, and Itachi couldn't help but wonder if this was a wild hallucination brought on by the medication he occasionally took when the nerve pain became unbearable. The last time that he and Sakura had seen one another, she had told him that she hated him and that he deserved to die…but she had just arrived at his door (evidently having sought him out), and she had actually _embraced _him, her joy tangible, and now she was giving him the benefit of her medical treatment once again? What had changed?

Itachi shook himself out of his reverie only when he belatedly realized that Sakura had just asked him a question; she was watching him expectedly. "Yes. Konan believed that the nerve damage occurred as a result of a spinal cord injury that I sustained during my last fight with Sasuke. She healed the rest of my injuries to the best of her ability, but she was unable to correct this."

"Hmm," Sakura murmured, but then she offered him a tentative smile, one that momentarily took his breath away. "Is there somewhere that you can go to lie down?"

It was embarrassing, the direction that his thoughts involuntarily headed in. Even relatively early on, Sakura had proved herself to have that unfortunate ability to occasionally reduce him to an unacceptably adolescent state of mind. It was like having an Inner Shisuitake up residence in his head,or something equally objectionable. Itachi coughed, trying to conceal his lapse. "Yes – there is a sitting room and two bedrooms, if you would like to rest. It must have been a long journey from the Land of Tea to here."

Sakura actually laughed, and since he was still in his adolescent state of mind, the sound was music to Itachi's ears. "The sitting room will be fine, and it's not for me, it's for you. I'm going to try to do the first stage of the healing right now."

There was a brief delay in comprehending the words; it was like she had unexpectedly spoken to him in a foreign language. "You can?" Itachi asked, feeling his heartbeat quicken. At first, there had been nights that he would go to bed wishing, like a little child, that his injuries would magically disappear overnight, restoring his former abilities in the blink of an eye. But it had been so long since then that he had gradually come to terms with and accepted the new state of being.

In response, Sakura just raised an eyebrow at him, and the look was so reminiscent of her usual gently teasing manner that Itachi blushed a little. She had, after all, once healed the chronic illness that had nearly taken his life. "…Of course you can," he murmured, resigned. He had hardly been able to take his eyes off her since the second he had opened the door. He hadn't failed to notice the black ribbon tied around her upper right arm; indicating that her skills had progressed even further since they had last seen one another. Itachi remembered all too well that the black ribbon was Konoha's marker for a jounin who chose not to wear the customary green flak vest, for whatever reason. When he had been a jounin, against regulations, he would often remove the ribbon and tie it around the ecstatic four-year-old Sasuke's arm instead. Sasuke would then proudly parade around the gardens, flinging his toy kunai around randomly, at invisible enemies.

Itachi smiled at the memory. As soon as the opportunity arose, he would have to ask Sakura if Naruto and Sasuke had been promoted to chunin yet. If so, his little brother could be about a year away from fulfilling his childhood dream. By today's standards, Sakura was young for the promotion – even though she had to be about eighteen now, if he remembered correctly. In the almost-year that had passed since they had seen one another, she had come to look a world more mature and adult – guarded – than the trusting, innocent teenage girl he had first met. The elder Uchiha thought of all that she had been through since then, and felt a wave of sorrow wash over him. A lot of that heartache and anguish had been his fault.

But even through all of that, she had managed to accomplish so much, and Itachi nodded in acknowledgement toward the black ribbon. "Is there anything you can't do?" he asked wryly.

He had intended for it to be a joke of sorts, to make her laugh and elicit another teasing response. But instead, Sakura just looked at him, her expression unreadable, and touched his arm again. Though the brush of her fingers was feather-light, Itachi couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. "I can't bring back the dead," she said softly, holding his gaze. "Even though I've wished to, a thousand times over."

Despite her lack of volume, the significance of the words struck him like a slap. If it wasn't just wishful thinking – Itachi found himself completely, uncharacteristically, at an utter loss for words. All that he wanted to do – all that seemed reasonable – was to close the distance between them, take her into his arms, and kiss her as hard and passionately and slowly and tenderly as he could. It was the only possible outlet for conveying the veritable storm of emotion that raged inside him, and…

_No, _Itachi's mind ordered sharply, before he could make a move. _No. _It was out of the question, regardless of whether he had been craving this moment; this _opportunity, _ceaselessly for the past nine months. They had parted on such terrible terms, and it had been so long since they had seen one another. The uncertainty was too great. Just because his feelings for Sakura had not changed did not mean that she felt the same way. Nothing was clear yet; he didn't even know her state of mind…they had only been reacquainted for a mere ten minutes. He most definitely could not pounce on her and expect to return to where they left off before her memories had returned, not after everything that had happened.

Furthermore, if Sakura had encountered Kisame in Tea, that must have happened just this morning. If she had really believed him dead, discovering otherwise would have been a huge shock. Though it did seem to be a happy surprise, an inner voice maintained stubbornly.

Still, Itachi forced himself to draw back to a respectable distance, clearing his throat to mask his discomfiture. He gestured toward the kitchen with his good hand, noting that Sakura looked exhausted; there were dark circles underneath her eyes. Courtesy, as always, took precedence over everything else. "We do not have to start the healing now," he told her, wincing at the awkward change of subject. "I was just starting dinner – I can have it ready in half an hour…"

"No, no," Sakura replied hastily, shaking her head and pushing her long bangs back out of her face, before holding her arm out to him. The expression on her face threatened to shatter his resolve all over again. "I…I don't want you to have to be in pain for another minute."

After a moment of hesitation, Itachi took the offered support. Her words warmed him inexplicably – it was such a blissful contrast to what she had last said to him, months ago – but he still felt more suddenly self-conscious of his altered physical abilities than he ever had when interacting with Kisame.

He led her toward the sitting room, Sakura supporting his weight with ease. She could have actually picked Itachi up and carried him – it would have been easier for her, and she would have, if it had been Naruto – but she restrained the temptation. Her heart twisted with anguish as she subtly observed Itachi's gait, through the veil of her hair. The limp was very pronounced, every step probably causing him a great amount of discomfort…and it was just terribly disorienting to see _Itachi _like that; Itachi, of all people. The consummate warrior, the perfect shinobi. Sakura had never been so thankful for her own medical skills. She couldn't take back the words she had said to him in the height of her rage, and the pain they had caused him…but at least she could do this. This, she could fix. This damage, she could erase with just a few movements of her hands.

They stopped in front of the sofa, and the two of them were standing close enough for Sakura to hear his barely audible exhalation of relief. "Normal nerve damage healings take three sessions," she told him, taking comfort in slipping into the familiar role of medic-nin. No matter how much she had longed for the opportunity to meet Itachi again…it was still strange. The dynamic between them was altered, naturally, and there was _so much _that she wanted to say, except she had no idea when or how to say it. "…We can get most of the work done now, in the first half hour session. That will restore about eighty percent of normal mobility to your limbs. The follow-up sessions will take place at intervals of two days, during which time you should work on exercises to restore your flexibility and range of motion. Now, would you like to do your arm or leg first?"

Itachi inclined his head slowly, processing the information. His traitorous heart actually fluttered with excitement. "…The arm, I think."

Sakura made a small, thoughtful sound in the back of her throat as she looked him over. She felt her face warm somewhat as she reached forward and brushed her fingers against his shirt, right over his chest. She had just been on the verge of asking him to remove it, but although Itachi had subconsciously hidden his left arm from her direct view again, it was still clear that getting it to comply with certain tasks would be difficult. It wouldn't be fair for her to watch him struggle with it. "Shall I?" the pink-haired kunoichi asked, hating how uncomfortable she felt. But then – this was all absolutely new. Professionalism aside…she had never before worked alongside or healed somebody she had formerly been…romantically involved with.

Itachi acquiesced softly, sounding somewhat embarrassed. Sakura eased the shirt over his head as slowly and carefully as she could, trying to move his left arm as little as possible. It took a concerted effort not to stare at his bare chest, arms, and shoulders. In spite of her best efforts to keep it at bay, the memory of the last time she had done this was overwhelming. It had been the last time they had been together, on the night before she had woken up alone in the forest outside of Konoha, in the small bedroom she had called home, at the base in Lightning.

She had thought of that room, and that house, often – it felt more like home than her luxurious, empty apartment in Konoha. Itachi had removed all of her clothes already, by the time she had pounced on his lap and tugged his shirt off. His usually-immaculate hair always got most fetchingly tousled after that, and Sakura remembered giggling at the expression on his face as she tackled him onto the bed. She had pinned him down with the weight of her body, kissing his neck and nibbling at the hollow of his throat and his collarbone. Itachi hadn't put up much of a resistance at all, preferring to lie back and enjoy her ministrations for a while, before he had eventually turned the tables on her.

And the entire time, while she had been completely unaware, half-drunk by desire and her affection for him…he had known that was the last night they would ever spend together.

The thought made a knot form in Sakura's chest as she directed Itachi on how to lie down, before pulling chakra to her hands. The look in his charcoal-gray eyes was inscrutable, the entire time, before he closed them – but the pink-haired kunoichi couldn't help but wonder if he was remembering the same things that she was. This was just – it was so – _tense. _Right now, she actually felt more utterly mixed up and at sea, emotionally, than she had after finding out that he was "dead." As much as she had hoped fervently that it would happen, against all reason – she had been so completely unprepared for what seeing Itachi again would _do _to her, and she paused, taking a moment to regain her concentration.

"I'm going to start now," Sakura murmured, before reaching out and resting her palm against the nerve cluster on Itachi's upper left arm. She had been dreading this moment; she felt her stomach clench up in apprehension, even as she felt his muscles jump beneath her touch – just another spasm, surely. _Focus, _she told herself unhappily. It was an old coping mechanism; built from the necessity of maintaining her composure when working to heal gruesome, grievous – sometimes fatal – injuries on her own comrades and friends. Focusing solely on the injuries and what she had to heal from a purely medical standpoint – like it was just a case study in one of her textbooks – kept her calm.

But like she had thought earlier, this was different. Running her hands along Itachi's skin, almost like a caress, feeling the interplay of nerve and muscle and tendon underneath her palm, was a necessity for this type of healing. And her compartmentalization skills didn't extend to this. To the kind of relationship that they had.

Sakura felt the blood pulsing through his arteries and veins. She felt his heart beating. And all of it was almost too much to deal with. Itachi, alive. A large part of her was still in shock. Yes, she was overjoyed for his sake – he hadn't truly _lived, _all these years, and such an untimely death would have been a truly cruel, unjust fate for him. It was just the emotional implications of this discovery…it was staggering, incomprehensible. She didn't even know how to begin sorting out her feelings. From the second she had seen him again, she'd had these impulses… She just needed some quiet time alone, to sleep and think and process.

All of this physical contact, as well…she had felt a need to heal Itachi, the second she had seen that he was injured – but it just muddied the waters even more. Sakura had always felt that their relationship – well, like they had been two pieces of a puzzle that perfectly fit one another, as cliché as it sounded. Like yin and yang, two pieces that made a whole. The two of them had been friends first; they had always enjoyed and taken comfort in one another's company. But after she and Itachi had become physically involved, they hadn't taken long to discover that they shared a certain physical chemistry as well. It was surprising, because they had both been shy and uncertain the first several times, and Itachi ridiculously repressed as well. But they hadn't been able to get enough of each other.

There had actually been a game, of sorts, that they had liked to play. Sakura had initiated it, one night that she'd been feeling a little bit bored. Having come upstairs early as usual, instead of heading to her own room, on impulse, she had gone to Itachi's instead. She stripped down to her panties and lay on top of his covers, feigning sleep. She still remembered how her skin had tingled with anticipation upon hearing the faint creak of Itachi's footsteps on the stairs and upstairs floorboards. She smiled mischievously into the pillow as he explored her bedroom and bathroom, imagining his curiosity at her apparent disappearance.

And then there was finally the creak of his door opening, and Sakura had heard Itachi's soft, barely audible sigh. It took an effort to stay still, keep her eyes closed, and maintain the same steady, even rate of breathing as she felt him approach. He silently sat beside her, his added weight causing the bed to dip slightly. For a moment, Sakura had been afraid that Itachi would be his usual gentlemanly, scrupulous self and let her "sleep," pulling the covers over her and pressing a chaste goodnight kiss to the top of her head. _That _would be unbearable. She had taken precautions against this by draping her bra over his lamp in an obviously deliberate fashion.

Hopefully he had noticed, because Itachi _was _the type to take in all manner of minute details and changes to his normally spotless room…even if there was a naked girl in his bed, which would normally dominate any other man's complete attention.

Her hypothesis had been proved correct when Itachi leaned over her, so that she felt the ends of his long hair swing down and tickle her skin. He trailed the tip of his finger, feather-light, in a straight line down from her collarbone, between her breasts, all the way to her navel. Sakura was fairly sure any pretense she had been maintaining had been dissipated by her skin's immediate reaction to his touch, but she kept up the ruse anyway, forcing Itachi to try more overt measures of eliciting a reaction. She had been ridiculously proud of herself for holding out for almost ten minutes – hey, feigning impassiveness to _him_, of all people, was a serious accomplishment – and only giving in when he nuzzled his head against her breasts. In the instant after her arms had come up to wrap around him and she had arched her back and moaned his name, Sakura had felt Itachi's smirk of accomplishment against her skin.

He had wholeheartedly enjoyed the game, as much as she had, and they'd played it about once a week. Sakura had been unable to control her laughter the first night that she had entered her room, and found a mostly-unclothed Itachi in her bed, the pale pink blankets pulled to his chin. "I was cold," he told her defensively, without opening his eyes. _Stop, you're supposed to be asleep,_ she had giggled, and Itachi had obliged.

It felt like they were playing the game right now, save for the pulses of healing chakra that emanated from her palms. Foolishly, Sakura kept expecting that any minute now, Itachi would stop pretending to be asleep and then pull her down into his arms for a long kiss, before chiding her for breaking the rules and using her chakra to tickle him.

_Of course that won't happen, though, _Inner Sakura spoke up bitterly. All of that had been had been in a different time and place, with a different Sakura and Itachi. Everything had changed.

Sakura blinked several times, pouring as much chakra into her hands as she could, in an attempt to finish the healing faster. Itachi winced, his brows coming together in response to the discomfort. After one final check of the areas she had worked on, Sakura pulled back. "There," she said, her voice a little rusty after such a prolonged silence, as she watched the arm carefully. "The pain should be gone now – that tingling you feel is the repaired nerves at work. They've been atrophied for months now, so it will take about a day for everything to feel as normal as it did prior to the injury. Now, can you test your range of motion for me?"

Itachi sat up slowly, stretching the arm out in front of him. It remained still, with no signs of the spasms or tremors that had wracked it earlier. He rotated his wrist experimentally, and then moved each of his fingers in turn, finally clenching and unclenching his fist. Aside from a little stiffness due to lack of use, everything appeared to be moving smoothly, as it should. Sakura held her breath as Itachi picked up his shirt with the newly healed hand, before slipping it on without so much as the smallest grimace of discomfort. He stretched his arm out in front of him again, and when he smiled one of those rare, open smiles that lit up his entire face, Sakura found herself unexpectedly torn between joy and tears.

"Thank you, Sakura," he told her quietly, genuinely. Impulse won out over common sense, just for a brief moment, and Itachi reached out and brushed her hand with his, coming just shy of taking it in his own. Sakura nearly jumped in her seat and gave him a look that he would gladly have given a million ryou to read, but she turned her hand palm up and squeezed his fingertips lightly all the same. Itachi followed the movement with his eyes, marveling at the power – to heal and to destroy – that she held in those small hands. The relief that he felt now, just minutes after her healing… There were no words, and he looked at her earnestly. "I don't know how I can ever—"

"No," Sakura interrupted suddenly, and the intensity of her voice – and the sudden fire that had leapt into her eyes – took Itachi for surprise. She stood up abruptly, beginning to pace around the room, her agitation palpable. She stopped near the other side of the sofa then, looking immensely distressed; her hands trembled as she knotted them together. "You have nothing to thank me for," she said, with difficulty. "This is the very least I can do for you, after…after everything that I said and did, the last time that we saw each other."

The words had been the very last thing he had expected, and Itachi blinked, utterly stunned. Before he could speak, Sakura took a deep breath, obviously struggling to maintain her composure, as she tentatively stepped forward. When she spoke again, her voice trembled. "I am _so _sorry for being so awful and cruel and hurtful. You didn't deserve it. I started doubting myself that same night. I didn't listen to what you were trying to say – I was just so _angry, _I wasn't thinking straight, and I should have – I _should _have known better than to believe all the things that I did, and—"

Now that she had started, it was all pouring out of her now, all of the thoughts that had plagued her for the past nine months, with none of the clarity and coherence she had hoped for, but at that point, Sakura didn't even care anymore. "And I'm so sorry for _everything, _everything I said and what happened to your family – and I should have listened to you on that night, I would have found out the truth earlier – I'm sorry for that too, and for not trusting you, and accusing you of all those terrible things, and threatening you with a kunai. I…I understand now what a difficult position you were in, and how you truly did all that you could to help me and care for me – and I was an ungrateful little worm, and you're not everything that I said you were. You're not, at all…"

Her eyes were by now so blurred with tears that Sakura could barely distinguish Itachi's form as he rose from the sofa and limped toward her. He tried to take her hands in his – probably to say something comforting or try to calm her down; she _knew _him – but she pulled away, wiping at her eyes, frustrated by her inability to control her emotions. "I understand if you're still angry and if you want me to leave," she said quietly, her voice choked. "I really do. I don't expect you to forgive me or anything like that. I know how hurtful and out of line I was. I just wanted to tell you that I am truly sorry for everything…for all that it's worth."

Sakura felt a light pressure on her hands, and the next thing she knew, Itachi gently pulled her into his arms, holding her close. It had been the last thing she had expected, and all the breath left her body in a ragged sigh as she rested her head against the side of his shoulder. After a few moments, Itachi drew back slightly, and he used the sleeve of his shirt to carefully dry the tears that had fallen down her cheeks.

"I forgive you, Sakura," he told her softly, and she couldn't seem to tear her upturned gaze away from his face. "I understand that you were in a great deal of pain. Your feelings were understandable, and I wish that I could have done something to lessen your anguish." Itachi hesitated slightly, a shadow flickering through his eyes, but he didn't release her. "…I do want to ask…how did you come to discover the truth?"

Of course he would be curious. The Sandaime and the Council of Elders must have told him that his mission would have been top-secret…never to be discovered. "It was about one and a half months after your fight with Sasuke." Sakura sniffled at the memory. "I was assigned a mission where I had to infiltrate the ANBU Root archives, in their headquarters. I was searching for a certain hidden scroll, and the archives are alphabetized. Quite by chance, I ended up in the U section…and when I tried to pull down the scroll I wanted, several more toppled from the shelves. One hit me on the head and came unraveled, and I saw the kanji for your name on it. I knew that you were in ANBU, and I was curious, and…" she sighed, exhausted. "I read it, all of it. It was the scroll assigning you – that mission."

Itachi exhaled slowly, taking it in. His mind was suddenly in a tumult of confusion. If Sakura knew, who else did? She would have told the Hokage, undoubtedly. His throat went dry as sandpaper; his chest constricted. And of course Sakura would have told her teammates. Sasuke… Sasuke would know the truth. He had never wanted his little brother to discover that dark, terrible secret; it was better that he take the blame. As twisted as it sounded, the deceit was actually more palatable than the truth.

Yet, as unforgivably selfish as it was, Itachi felt his heart leap out of sheer hope. If Sasuke knew the truth, he would know…that regardless of anything else, he had loved him all along. That he wasn't the cold-blooded monster that Sasuke had accused him of being. If Sakura told Sasuke that he, in fact, was still _alive, _who knew how he would react…

Itachi forcibly shut down that train of thought before he could get carried away. Forgiveness would be too much to hope for, but at least there would be understanding. At least it was all out in the open, now. It had been such a nightmarish deceit, one that had played out for almost a decade. He shook his head slightly, trying to marshal his thoughts. Still, there would be time to discuss all of that later. The output of chakra during the healing had taken a visible toll on Sakura, making her look even more drainedthan she had earlier. Itachi touched her arm gently, before indicating the kitchen. "You must be hungry. Come and sit down."

He led her into the kitchen, and Sakura sank down into one of the chairs gratefully. She offered to help Itachi finished dinner, but he politely refused, telling her to rest. It was obvious that he was enjoying having full function to his arm and hand again, for the first time in months, and it brought a smile to her face. She decided that she would heal his leg tomorrow, as she watched him move around the kitchen. All of this reminded her, oddly enough, of the first time she had ever made dinner with him, in their old base in Lightning. Maybe that had been the first night that she had started to see him as more than a friend. Oh, and then there was the first time she had met Itachi, period, the morning that she had woken up after her head injury. She had been ravenous, and he had taken so much care to prepare her an extensive and delicious breakfast.

The memories weren't unpleasant ones, but Sakura found herself unable to look at Itachi for a moment longer, all the same. She redirected her gaze to the kitchen table, unable to come to terms with the sudden upsurge of emotion that roiled within her stomach, making her feel queasy.

How stupid and pathetic _was _she? She still had feelings for him; she hadn't realized their extent until now – until seeing him again. She had been so sure that he was gone, and she had mourned and missed him fiercely, since discovering the truth. She had turned down dates, even months afterward, because she still wasn't ready to be with somebody who wasn't _him. _It was only a few months ago that Sakura had accepted an offer from the special jounin who had first approached her before her jounin exams. After their dinner, she had returned to her apartment and sat up for half the night, before deciding that she was finally ready to start something new – nothing serious, but still. Sakura still remembered lying in bed, thinking it over, consumed by the dull ache in her chest – about no matter how much she wished otherwise, Itachi was never going to come back, and she had to put her feelings for him to rest.

Now, she smiled a little bitterly, propping her chin up on her fingers. Oh, the irony. It was overwhelming.

And now that she could truly register that Itachi was really here; really alive and well… So much for being over him. All that she _wanted _to do, regardless of whether it was rational or not, was jump into his arms and rekindle their old relationship.

Sakura took a deep breath, struggling to calm herself down. At some level, she realized that the sorrow and anger she felt was illogical, but she couldn't help it. Of _course _it couldn't happen, and she was an idiot for even nursing such hopes. After how she had treated Itachi…well, there was no doubt that her feelings were unrequited. There was no way that he could still love her, after everything that happened. Their relationship was over, and it had been her own words and actions that had put the nail in the coffin. She had nobody to blame for the separation and the obvious changed dynamic between them, but herself.

_Don't be selfish, _Inner Sakura scolded. _And stop with the self-pity!_ Itachi was alive, and that was all that mattered.

He set a bowl piled high with steaming-hot stir-fried vegetables and noodles in front of her then, and the delicious aroma of the food temporarily banished Sakura's melancholy. She had been absolutely famished, and she smiled at Itachi as he took a seat across from her. When they talked steadily, all the way through their long, relaxed dinner and more still, after he cleared away the used dishes and brought out several sticks of dango from the refrigerator, she couldn't help but reflect on how absolutely_ right_ it felt – at least to her – to be sitting across from him and talking to him again.

Sakura grilled Itachi for details about everything he had been doing for the past several months, since his fight with Sasuke, and she shook her head in amazement when he described the rehabilitation routine he had designed for himself. After that, Itachi, looking somewhat abashed, quietly asked about her parents. She told him about the measures she had been taking to find them again, and he met her gaze seriously. "Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help you, Sakura. I will begin making inquiries within my network."

Sakura gave him a small smile, touched. "Thanks."

She had just taken another bite of her dango when Itachi spoke again, sounding somewhat uncertain. "How are Naruto and Sasuke?"

"Naruto's doing great," Sakura replied, as soon as she had swallowed the dessert. "Jiraiya-sensei has been teaching him all kinds of new, advanced techniques, and he's incredibly excited about that, of course. As for Sasuke…" she sighed regretfully, taking a sip of her water. "I don't know. We still can't find him."

Itachi frowned slightly, and Sakura could see how all the muscles in his upper body instantly tensed up. "What?" he asked, sounding confused – it was a very unusual emotion, from him – as his gaze sought hers. "Is Sasuke not…in the village? Did you not recover him after our confrontation?"

His mind was spinning; the sweet taste of dango turning into ash in his mouth. Itachi felt a chill of foreboding creeping into his bones and muscles. How could this be? When Kisame had taken him, the Konoha team had been mere minutes away. There was no way Sasuke could have regained consciousness and left to rejoin his team by then…

Sakura swallowed over her suddenly dry throat, shaking her head slowly. Itachi looked pale, and she felt her chest tighten with anguish at his palpable distress. "When we arrived at the outpost, we found it empty," she explained, as calmly as she could. "Kakashi-sensei and a few of the others went in while I secured the perimeter. When they came out without you or Sasuke…they told us that you were dead, judging from the amount of blood loss and your fading chakra signature. They also said that your body had probably been taken by another Akatsuki member, to harvest the bloodline limit."

The pink-haired kunoichi took a deep breath; just relating the story again stirred up emotions she would rather forget. "They knew that Sasuke was alive but unconscious after the fight…but he had been taken as well, by somebody different. Somebody with a completely unknown chakra signature that we couldn't trace. We couldn't figure out _where _he had been taken either, or the jutsu used to transport him. It was like…" she gestured wordlessly, clearly disturbed. "Like the chakra trail just disappeared into a black hole. Nobody had ever seen anything like it before. We've been trying to find Sasuke and the teammates he traveled with since then, but we haven't had any luck yet."

Itachi lowered his head so that his long bangs fell over his eyes, hiding them from view, as he took a deep breath. Alarmed, Sakura noticed that his hands had begun to tremble minutely, before he curled them into a white-knuckled fist around his chopsticks. She reached out to him worriedly, regretting not breaking the news more gently. This would have been an absolutely awful shock, if he had believed that Sasuke was safe in Konoha for all this time. She had never seen him this visibly upset. His face had turned into stone; the look in his eyes was actually frightening. "Itachi—"

He pushed away from the table and rose abruptly, striding away with surprising speed, considering his limp. There was a dark purpose in his movements that didn't bode well, and Sakura left the table hurriedly as well, trying to follow after him. He ignored her pleas for him to wait, instead taking his Akatsuki cloak from off a hook in the hall and grabbing a roll of what had to be weapons from the kitchen counter, before quickening his pace.

Her stomach churned with anxiety. For Itachi, who always had the utmost degree of calm and control over his emotions, to react like this…something was terribly wrong. Had he somehow recognized her vague description of Sasuke's captor? Cold dread coiled up within her. In the instant before the anger had set in, Itachi had actually looked…_afraid._

There was a cold draft in the room, and Sakura looked around, coming back to herself. The sliding glass door that led to the backyard was open, and she slipped through it hastily. Itachi was pacing through the darkness like an anxious wolf, ready to snap; his chakra-sensing capabilities were extended to the maximum. Which, for him, was a startlingly large radius. She could tell that he was fully ready to go charging off in pursuit of Sasuke, and he was too emotionally compromised at the moment to realize that was a very bad idea. It was true that Itachi was one of the most skilled and powerful shinobi alive, considered to be undefeatable, but he was dangerously weakened at the moment – his skills were probably rusty after not having use of one arm for six months; his right leg was still crippled.

Sakura put herself in front of him, ignoring the way Itachi glared and tried to step around her. "What is going on?" she demanded angrily, before catching his wrist in a vicelike grip that was only enhanced by her chakra-aided strength. "And don't even _try _to leave this area, no matter what you sense or do not sense. You are in _no _condition to fight and you won't help Sasuke by getting yourself killed!"

She had never fully appreciated how intimidating Itachi could be when he put his mind to it. A year ago, she would have cowered and ran away in response to the look he was giving her now, and the aura that radiated off him. Both of them were contemplating the fight that would ensue if he tried to incapacitate her and run. For the first time, he looked like the dangerous, unstable S-class criminal that he'd been accused of being. Now, though, Sakura just held her ground, staring back at him unflinchingly. At the core of it, she could see that right now, Itachi was like a panicked animal. All of the volatility, restlessness, and aggression was born out of a deep fear.

At long last, he broke her gaze. All of the breath left his body in a ragged sigh, and from where she held his wrist, Sakura could feel Itachi's pulse decelerate slightly. "Good," she said, with calmness she didn't entirely feel. "Now. What's going on?"

She let go of him, and Itachi came to stand at her side. "Madara Uchiha," he said quietly, flatly, his hands curling into fists. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Do you…?"

Sakura frowned, trying to recall where she had heard that name before. It had been in some history book. "Wasn't he the leader of the Uchiha clan, prior to the formation of Konoha?" The cool breeze made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and she shivered. "But that was _generations _ago. You can't be saying that—"

"He's still alive," Itachi replied grimly. "He…before my last mission…I discovered his existence. Madara was planning to rekindle the flames of war in Konoha, and in return…in return for sparing the village, I told him of my assignment. He was assuaged, temporarily…it was the vengeance he had always wanted on the clan for turning their back on him decades earlier. I joined Akatsuki…after…to keep an eye on Madara, to make sure that he kept his promise and never acted against Konoha."

Sakura held her breath, horrified. By all accounts, Madara Uchiha was the most dangerous shinobi that had ever lived. Worse, his hatred of Konoha was well-known. The book she had read quoted the fact that Madara had made several statements declaring that he would never rest until he saw the village destroyed. Itachi had just corroborated those details. Her mind span as she tried to process all the frightening implications of the new information. "What does Madara want with Sasuke?" she asked slowly, dreading the answer that would come.

"He wants to use him as a pawn." Itachi began to pace again, the anger returning. "As long as I was part of Akatsuki, Madara refrained from acting against Konoha. However, he is now under the impression that I am dead. Kisame told him that he cremated my body and scattered the ashes over the sea. Now that Madara faces no opposition, he will move against Konoha. It will be a massive, devastating attack, one that I suspect he's been planning for decades. I am sure that it was he who took Sasuke, and he is an extremely manipulative individual. I do not know what he might have told him, but my fear is that he led in Sasuke, in some way, to becoming a member of the Akatsuki. He wants to use him as a player in his plot to destroy Konoha. You know…you know that my brother has grown into a formidable shinobi."

Sakura shook her head, unable to wrap her mind around what Itachi was telling her. "No. Sasuke wouldn't…he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't want to see Konoha destroyed. What could Madara say to him—"

"You don't know Madara," Itachi replied sharply, before looking away. His shoulders slumped somewhat. "And…there is an unmistakable darkness in Sasuke's nature. He proved himself susceptible to Orochimaru's promises; he will be equally malleable to Madara. The perfect pawn." He looked miserable. "I was always afraid of this. I took such care to make my plans so that this wouldn't happen – so that after my death, Sasuke could return to the right path. I tried so hard, and Madara—"

He broke off abruptly, his mingled sorrow and rage painfully evident. Sakura gave him a moment, trying to control the fury that threatened to consume her. Itachi's instincts were nearly always right; she trusted his estimation of the situation completely. How could Sasuke have joined the Akatsuki? How could he have pledged, alongside Madara, to destroy Konoha?

_Sasuke… _she tried to remember the boy she had known, but she couldn't even bring his face to mind. It was just darkness and shadows, and the vengeful gleam of blood-red eyes. As hard as it was to admit it, Itachi was right. There was a frightening darkness and amorality within Sasuke, and he had already proved himself all too ready to ally with enemies of Konoha.

The pink-haired kunoichi fought a shudder at the thought of Madara. The things she'd read…it was easy to see where Itachi's father and the other Uchiha clan members had learned that ruthless, unending ambition and never-ceasing hunger for power and control. It was no wonder that Itachi had been so very desperate to shield Sasuke from Madara's influence. All he had wanted was for Sasuke to return to Konoha and live a happy life as a peaceful member of the village.

Sakura rested her hand on Itachi's arm, feeling his muscles twitch underneath her hand. "I understand how upset you are," she said quietly. "Really. And I know that this is an urgent situation, but you just can't go off in pursuit of Madara right now. It's just the two of us; we need reinforcements if he's still as dangerous as you say. Besides, you're still injured, which puts you at a serious combat disadvantage."

Itachi still looked stubborn and mulish, making Sakura think that she would have to forcibly restrain him if he tried anything, but at long last, he sighed, relenting. "Very well," he murmured, although she could see he was still overcome with tension.

Instinct and habit drove Sakura to reach for his hand and hold it, as she always used to. She caught herself at the last moment, but her fingers still brushed his wrist awkwardly, and Itachi looked down at her. Sakura's face burned as she brought her hands back to herself self-consciously, mortified by the slip. "Shall we go inside?" she blurted. "I'm tired."

Automatically, she winced at her own presumptuousness. What if he didn't want her to stay the night? It wasn't right of her to just invite herself over—

"Yes," Itachi replied automatically, seeming to come back to himself, and it was too late to backtrack now. "I apologize. You have had a long day."

They returned to the house in silence, Itachi directing a last regretful look out at the night. It was obvious where his thoughts were, as he led her through the house, showing her where everything was. He seemed happy enough to have her stay, and Sakura relaxed just a little. This base, located in an obscure, backwards area in the Land of Waves, was much smaller than the base in Lightning. There were no large, lavish libraries, spare bedrooms, or studies here. Just Kisame's bedroom and Itachi's, and the narrow hallway that joined the bedrooms to the kitchen, sitting room, and entry hall.

"This is the bathroom," Itachi indicated the closed door, "if you wanted to freshen up." He nodded to the other door across the hallway, and even in the dim lighting of the hallway – the very _narrow _hallway, where they had to stand close to one another by necessity – Sakura could see the way his face warmed in a blush. "This is my room. You can stay here; the accommodations in the sitting room are more than adequate for my needs…"

"No, no," Sakura interrupted hastily, sticking her hands behind her back in an attempt to prevent herself from doing anything untoward, like touching his arm for emphasis. "You need the bed more than I do. You've just been through a major healing." Itachi appeared unconvinced, and she went on, smiling with an effort. "I'll be fine on the sofa, I promise."

The words caused a wrenching sensation inside her, as she involuntarily remembered how they used to love cuddling up next to one another to sleep. Itachi inclined his head, watching her with his usual quiet intensity. "If you change your mind at any time, just come and wake me. Please."

"Thanks," Sakura murmured, lowering her gaze. She looked so exhausted that Itachi was briefly tempted to lift her into his arms, carry her over to his bed, and tuck her in. But she took first one step back from him, and then another, although she still held his gaze, as if unable to look away. "Well…good night, then."

"Sleep well, Sakura," Itachi told her softly, opening his door. It was true that he hadn't traveled extensively today, and had been merely the recipient of a healing – but his heart felt terribly heavy nevertheless. For many reasons. But regardless of everything else…Sakura was _here, _and that was something beyond his wildest dreams.

"Itachi."

Her voice broke him out of his thoughts, and Itachi turned back to see Sakura, looking at him – an unreadable expression on her face – from where she stood, halfway down the hall. She twisted her fingers together, the look in her eyes pushing his self-control to the limit. "I'm…I'm so, _so_ glad you're all right," she said, barely audibly. "Really. I can't even begin to say…"

For the first time in what felt like hours, a genuine smile touched the corners of Itachi's face. "Thank you, Sakura."

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but for a fraction of a second, it appeared as if she was going to step toward him. But then, after one last look in his direction, Sakura turned and made her way down the hallway, her fingers trailing the wall; her hair a spot of brightness in the dark.

Itachi watched until she turned the corner into the kitchen and disappeared from sight. After several moments, all the breath left his body in a long, rueful sigh, and he slowly stepped into his bedroom, taking care – _hopeless fool that you are, _his mind told him sharply – to keep the door wide open.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Wow. This chapter was a challenging one to write, because I know that I (and all of you, also) have been looking forward to it for so long. I really hope that it was worth the wait, and as always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)

Also, I just wanted to let you guys know – I just created a writing livejournal, where I plan to post miscellaneous thoughts regarding my current and future work, Itachi and Sakura in general, and maybe even some assorted one-shots and stuff. The link to it is on my profile, and it's public. Feel free to check it out!


	17. The Return

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was kind enough to leave a review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Seventeen: The Return_

* * *

"That was _so awesome._"

"No," Jugo replied shakily, leaning heavily against the wall of the cave and then sliding down – crumbling, really – into a sitting position. He looked down at the blood that still spotted his hands with a grimace. "It wasn't."

Suigetsu sneered, briefly stopping his adrenaline-fueled, restless pacing around the mouth of the cave. "Oh, come on. Don't be such a pu—"

"Shut up!" Karin snapped, glaring at Suigetsu, as she raked her long hair back into a ponytail, wiping her sweaty forehead on her sleeve as she did so. "Don't be crude. Anyway, there are women who are twice as skilled as a shinobi as you are—"

"Yeah, but you sure aren't one of them," Suigetsu interrupted in turn, smirking. "You know, Karin, if Jugo hadn't stepped in and saved your ass at the end there, you would be a smoking crater in the ground. Once again, another battle where you prove to be a useless waste of space."

"That's a lie and you know it!" Karin shrieked, infuriated. "At the beginning, right after our ambush, he would have _killed _you if I hadn't distracted him with the kunai attack – isn't that right, Jugo?"

Ignoring the pointless squabbling of his teammates, as always, Sasuke silently turned his back on them and proceeded deeper into the dark cave, until the sounds of their irritating chatter faded. It was there that he threw his pack down to the ground with a thud and sat, staring numbly into the blackness. Spring had come, but the night was cold, each gust of wind bringing with it a deep chill reminiscent of winter. He realized at some level, detachedly, that it would be wise to start a fire.

Yet Sasuke couldn't summon the initiative to do it. As it always did at this time of day – night – whatever – when he had nothing left to occupy him, he felt his heart seize up as though it had been clutched in an icy fist. Like a child, he could do nothing more than sit on his hands to keep them from freezing, as he leaned forward, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He would have liked to say that such episodes of overwhelming depression were foreign to him. In truth, though he did his best to conceal them from others, these fits had been occurring since he was a child – but always well hidden, of course, Sasuke maintained, perversely proud of that fact. It had been a regular occurrence ever since his family had…died. And the fresh, new agony of mourning had opened up again, since—

Sasuke tried to shut down that train of thought, but it was no use. His fingernails were digging into his palms painfully hard, and it took a conscious effort for him to unclench his fist. When he did, he stared blankly at the deep half-moon gouges that his nails had left behind. He knew that it had been months since that afternoon – but the anguish and rage he had felt in the aftermath of his battle with Itachi, when Madara had revealed the whole dreadful, _sick _truth to him…it was just as overwhelming and powerful as it was now. Time hadn't dulled the horror, the shock, the guilt, the _pain, _one bit.

The memory of Itachi's last words, and the tired but loving smile on his face returned unbidden. Sasuke felt a phantom touch on his forehead, making his skin tingle, and a renewed wave of sorrow washed over him again, forcing him to shut his eyes tightly. As usual, though, it was quickly replaced by crushing, simmeringfury that made his blood boil and his stomach threaten to turn over. The truth of the betrayal was even worse than the lie he had grown up believing.

Sasuke's fingers flexed into fists again as he remembered the Sandaime's face. The stupid old man had the temerity, had _dared, _to look him in the eye…to try and comfort him…after _it _had happened. He had touched his hand, had told him what a terrible _tragedy _it was, that his brother's mind had snapped like that.

The hypocrite. The bloody _fucking _hypocrite. He still remembered how helplessly he had cried, clutching the arms of the chair in the Hokage's office with his small hands. He had thought at the time that the Sandaime looked like his kindly old grandfather, who he had found with his throat slit from ear to ear, lying dead in a pool of his own blood. The memory had just made him cry harder. And the entire time, the Third Hokage had known…

It made his chest tighten with rage, but then a brief smile twisted Sasuke's lips as he thought back to Orochimaru's fight with his former sensei, so many years ago at the chunin exams. He was glad the old fool was dead, but at the same time, he did wish that he could have been the one to do it – to slit his withered neck, and watch him bleed to death…the same fate he had ordered for the Uchiha clan.

Sasuke smirked bitterly as he envisioned his former teammates' reaction, if they knew the details of his current hopes and dreams. They would be horrified…disgusted…even Naruto would shrink back from him and call him a monster.

No. _He _wasn't the monster. It was _them, _it was _Konoha, _that took his family from him, lied to him, and deceived him into thinking that his beloved older brother was a murderer. It was no matter, though. The Sandaime was dead, but there were still others…hundreds and hundreds of others…alive to pay the price. He wanted his revenge more than air to breathe and food to eat. It was a desire more powerful and all-consuming than any other he had ever experienced. He wanted Konoha to suffer and every one of its inhabitants to be gruesomely, mercilessly destroyed. Down to every last man, woman, and child…and especially the stupid shinobi who acted as blind puppets to the regime, wearing those damned forehead protectors like they were actually something to be proud of. He wanted Konoha to suffer like his family had, like Itachi had, like he had…

In that goal, he and Madara were united. However…

Sasuke frowned, re-adjusting his position slightly. His patience was running out. More than half a year had passed since Madara had revealed himself to him. On that occasion, he older shinobi had promised him a glorious strike against Konoha, of a destructive magnitude unseen since the Kyuubi had attacked, eighteen years ago. At the time, he had been willing to wait; to cooperate with Madara's plan rather than run off and act on his own.

But that had been so long ago, and Sasuke was tired of waiting. He and his team had done so much to further Madara's agenda, and to what end? The other Uchiha had waited generations, biding his time for several decades, before acting against Konoha. _He _did not intend to wait that long. One way or another, he would get his vengeance against his former home before the year was out. If he could count Madara as an ally, so much the better. If not…

_Wait and see, _a measured, calm inner voice counseled him. Madara had promised to see them tonight, so he could make a decision after that.

Sasuke lapsed into even deeper thought for a few minutes, before another frown furrowed his brow. He felt himself sitting up a little bit straighter, paying closer attention to his surroundings. Something was off, and it took him a little while to identify it. Suigetsu, Karin, and Jugo had ceased their squabbling and fallen silent; the unusual quiet settled heavily over the cave. He stood up and turned, and he could just barely distinguish the three of them coming to join him, unconsciously gravitating closer to one another.

Within a matter of moments, the night seemed to have grown darker, and although the wind had ceased, there was still a strangely pervasive chill in the air. Karin shivered as she came to a stop, standing – as usual – far too close to him. "Do you guys feel that?" she asked, wrinkling her nose and placing her hand on her throat.

Sasuke understood what she was talking about at once. The air had thickened, suddenly making it harder to breathe. Jugo shuddered, and Suigetsu shook his head irritably, trying to hide how unsettled he felt. "Damn, I hate this guy," he muttered under his breath. "All these fucking theatrics every single time he shows up…we get the picture, all right? Freakishly strong, creepy shinobi on the way, blah blah blah—"

Sasuke shot him a quelling look at the same time that Karin elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Suigetsu fell into a mutinous silence, and before Sasuke's eyes, a shadow even darker than the night that surrounded them flickered into evidence on the wall of the cave. In a matter of seconds, the shadow twisted and took form, and then it was Madara who stepped forward, under the guise of Tobi this time. Sasuke's eyes narrowed minutely; the mask and the Akatsuki cloak made him that much harder to read. He inclined his head a fraction of an inch in greeting nevertheless.

He could feel the tension radiating off his teammates, and he couldn't really blame them. Madara made an eerie picture, standing before them, arms folded into the sleeves of his cloak and the crimson glint of his Sharingan visible through the eye slit in his mask. "You have acquitted yourself well," he said at last, and though it was intended to be a compliment, his tone was still as unsettling as always. "The extraction of the Four-Tails has already begun. In three days, we will be ready."

Sasuke stiffened, momentarily taken by surprise. "Ready?" he echoed, his mind racing. "You don't mean…"

"Yes," Madara said softly. "Yes. I do."

Sasuke couldn't see his face, but he imagined that the other Uchiha had a smile underneath the mask that mirrored his own.

It took close to an hour for Madara to explain the plan and then patiently answer the several detailed questions that Sasuke threw at him. After he finally left, returning to the sealing of the Four-Tails, his teammates all simultaneously exhaled in relief, as the oppressive chakra presence finally faded from the cave. The four of them dispersed, getting ready to set up camp for the night. Suigetsu, Karin, and Jugo immediately launched into an animated discussion of the attack, but Sasuke remained silent, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Some of the terrible, leaden weight that had settled over him since discovering the truth, had been lifted. He could finally breathe a little easier. As he lay down to sleep, envisioning in detail what was to come five weeks from now, he was overwhelmed by an uncharacteristic sense of utter serenity. At long last, Sasuke fell asleep with a small smile on his face. His promise to Itachi and the rest of his family was on the verge of being fulfilled. Their murders would be avenged, in the most glorious way.

* * *

_The Land of Waves_

* * *

Konoha was in flames.

Itachi's childhood home had turned into an inferno. There was fire everywhere, and billowing clouds of thick black smoke entirely covered the sky, plunging the village into darkness. Buildings crumbled, massive piles of rubble obscuring the streets, making it even harder for the survivors of the attack to flee. The air was thick with panic and screams; countless horrifically burned corpses lined the roads.

And Sasuke stood at the center of it all, untouched, beside Madara. They watched the destruction with impassive faces. Itachi desperately tried to reach out to Sasuke, to touch him, but his hands went through his younger brother's body. "Stop this, Sasuke," he pleaded, over and over again. "Please. This is wrong, these people are innocent—"

But Sasuke could not hear him or see him. He lifted a hand slowly, as the air became charged with the power of his chakra. And as he did so, Hokage Tower trembled and shook and then _imploded, _and the screams were deafening; the fire scorching against his face—

Itachi woke with a start, tangled up in the covers, gasping for breath. His heart pounded; his chest ached from sustained tension. _Nightmare, _he thought shakily. _Just a nightmare. _It had to be. But his hands wouldn't stop shaking, as they gripped the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. The images refused to be dispelled, and he shuddered, thinking of Konoha. He told himself that dreams weren't prophetic, and that his fears were irrational. What he had seen wasn't happening right now. It was just a reflection of his deepest fears about the future…as nightmares usually were. He relaxed his grip on the sheets with difficulty, before lying down again, pulling the blankets up to his chest with both hands.

Itachi froze. After a moment, he cautiously lifted his right arm and smoothed a few disarrayed locks of hair out of his face.

The events of the previous day caught up with him all at once, then, and the breath left his body in a long sigh as he thought back to all of it. Sakura, showing up at the door so unexpectedly and throwing her arms around him in a joyful embrace, the apology, the healing, how they had eaten dinner together…the news about Sasuke…

Itachi closed his eyes, dread settling into the pit of his stomach. His heart felt heavy again. The ache he felt in the lower part of his body reminded him that his injured leg was still stiff and needed to be healed before he would be free to pursue Madara as he wished. His mind was already racing; busily formulating plans, as he got out of bed, carefully straightened the covers, and then limped toward the bathroom. As preoccupied as he was, he couldn't miss the sound of Sakura clattering around in the kitchen, and he felt the oddly comforting sensation of her chakra within the house. He paused for a little while, and couldn't help the small smile that touched the corners of his lips.

Bathing and getting ready for the day went by incredibly fast now that Sakura had restored the use of his right arm, and Itachi appreciated the ease of movement as he never had before. When he finally made his way into the kitchen, he found Sakura sitting at the table, her back to him. Her hair was damp, and she was still wearing her pajamas – not the same ones she'd had in Cloud, he was quick to notice, and he found it strangely disappointing. This set was a bright apple-green the color of her eyes.

There were two plates of breakfast set out on the table, steaming hot; buttered toast, scrambled eggs, and neatly sliced, peeled apples, with cups of tea to go with each plate. Itachi took in the spread appreciatively, noting the lack of waffles. Undoubtedly Sakura would have tried, but they had run out of batter a few days ago and he hadn't had the chance to go to the market yet. He'd developed an unexpected fondness for the dish ever since she had fed it to him the morning after they had first slept together.

"Thank you for breakfast," Itachi said quietly, stepping forward to join her, in an attempt to keep the memories at bay.

Sakura whirled around to face him, surprised. "Good morning," she said with a smile. "I didn't think you would be up so early – did you sleep well? How's your arm feeling?"

"I slept well," Itachi lied, averting his eyes from hers as he took a sip of his tea, realizing with a jolt that she had remembered his favorite blend. In his nightmare, he had frantically searched for her body amidst the ruins of the hospital. "…And my arm feels perfect."

That at least was truthful, and Sakura's gaze softened. "Good. I'm so happy that you're feeling better."

Itachi inclined his head as he began to eat. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, between mouthfuls of eggs. He had found it difficult to fall asleep initially, both because of the news about Sasuke, and the mental image of Sakura lying huddled on the sofa in the sitting room, alone underneath the knit blankets. Though he had left the bedroom door open, she hadn't ventured near…as he had expected. He wished she had, for more reasons than the obvious. He'd rarely ever had nightmares when she had slept beside him, stretched out in his arms.

"I slept fine," Sakura replied absentmindedly, tapping the pen she held against her chin in her typical nervous habit. "Your sitting room has the most beautiful view of the sun coming up over the ocean."

Itachi glanced toward the piece of paper in front of her, which was half-covered in her own straight, neat handwriting. She appeared to have stopped mid-word. Sakura noticed his scrutiny and grimaced. "Yesterday morning, after I met up with Kisame and he told me everything, I knew I had to come straight here, of course. So I wrote a quick note to Tsunade-shishou explaining why I wasn't returning to Konoha directly."

Itachi nearly choked on his toast. Some of the alarm must have registered on his face, because Sakura giggled. "Not _exactly _why, per say," she amended. "I came up with an excuse. Basically, that I went into a town in Tea to eat something after my mission, and there, I was recognized by some medics from this small rural clinic. They asked me for some guidance regarding a troublesome new illness seen in some people from the nearby border town, so I agreed to go with them and check it out."

Itachi raised an eyebrow, impressed. "How ingenious."

Sakura wrung her hands together anxiously. "I feel awful for lying to Tsunade-shishou," she confessed miserably. "But it can't be helped. Now I'm telling her that the case looks serious, so I might have to be here for several more days."

She stopped abruptly, giving Itachi another anxious look. For the second time in about twelve hours, Sakura cursed herself for being so unthinkingly imposing. She kept forgetting that things weren't the same anymore. First she had just randomly invited herself to stay overnight, and now this. Itachi had lived here for the past several months – what if he had a daily routine that she was interrupting? What if – the thought made her feel suddenly sick – what if he had a girlfriend he wanted to see or something…

"If that's okay with you, of course," Sakura blurted, because maybe talking would distract her from the fact that the mere idea of Itachi having moved on with another woman because of this whole misunderstanding and her blindness and rejection, made her want to vomit. "I don't want to impose or anything – it's just to make sure that I can heal your leg properly and continue to do the necessary follow-up work on your arm, to make sure that it has one hundred percent optimal functionality in the long term. And I don't have to stay here anyway; I can find an inn nearby and just stop by here for healing sessions, whatever is most convenient for you—"

"Sakura," Itachi interrupted firmly, and she stopped and drew breath for the first time in what felt like five minutes. "That will not be necessary. I wish for you to stay here."

Sakura bit her lip, flustered, and unsure whether he was just being his usual polite self. But the look in Itachi's eyes convinced her otherwise, and she finally gave him a small smile, reassured that he wanted her to stay. "All right," she murmured. All things considered…it was nice that she still had his friendship, at least.

They finished eating in companionable silence, and when Itachi rose to clear the dishes, Sakura touched his wrist. "Where's Kisame, by the way? I thought that he would have come back by last night."

"Kisame still reports to the Akatsuki, and he returns to Rain after some of his missions." Itachi paused, a brief flicker of amusement passing over his features. "And since coming to the Land of Waves, he has found other endeavors which keep him occupied at times."

Sakura was struck with the mental image of Kisame surfing, or happily commandeering his own deep-water fishing boat. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, as she rose to help Itachi finish the dishes. "We can start work on your leg today," she suggested, drying her hands on the kitchen towel and offering him her arm to lean on. "This will take longer to finish than your arm. Maybe two or three days, depending on how you respond to the treatment."

Itachi inclined his head, taking it in, but just as she was about to release his arm and ease him down onto the sofa, he took her by the hand, intertwining their fingers together and holding her gently but firmly. Sakura looked up at him, startled, and he placed his other hand on top of hers. "I am happy to have you here, Sakura," he told her softly.

Sakura felt herself blush. They were standing so close together, and he was holding her hand, and she wanted _so badly _to press herself up against him and kiss him. But she forced herself to stay still, not wanting to make this situation any more awkward. "I'm happy to be here," she murmured, somewhat at a loss for what to do.

Itachi released her hand then, and Sakura cleared her throat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, as she struggled to find and slip into that comforting, familiar role of medic-nin. "Now, if you could just lie down here and prop the leg up on these pillows…"

* * *

The days passed.

It took about one week for her to heal Itachi's injured leg, restoring the nerves and muscles to a fully healthy, normally functioning state. It was a fairly complex task; the damage had been severe. Working with the nervous system was always strenuous, because it was just so incredibly delicate. At the end of every day – like today – she found herself exhausted to the bone.

Sakura sprawled out on Itachi's bed (he had absolutely insisted on giving her the bedroom and sleeping in the sitting room for the past few days, so that she could get _the most optimal rest possible_), unable to move a muscle, even to draw the covers tighter around herself. The blankets smelled so comfortingly of Itachi. She had missed it. This bed was large enough to share, but she had bitten her lip against the suggestion. The dynamic between the two of them was comfortable, but still…delicate, in many ways. She had forgiven him for the hurt he had caused her, and vice versa – but that wasn't the issue, per say.

It was the reality of their previous relationship that hung between them, unseen, but evident all the same. They had been lovers, and their relationship hadn't ended in the conventional way. And that was difficult to ignore and dance around, which was exactly what they had been doing since they had been reunited. Sakura was almost completely sure that she wasn't imagining the tension between them, and that Itachi was aware of it too.

Compartmentalization had never been one of her strong points, and this was no exception. Ever since arriving here, she had been trying her hardest to remember that the past was the past and this present was a different reality, but it was hard. The lines were blurred. _Pass the salt, please, _Itachi had asked her once. Her fingers had brushed his and all she could think about was how she had held his hands before sharing their very first kiss. Their gazes had met, and for an instant, she had been sure that he had been remembering the same thing.

There had been another incident that had been even more embarrassing. Once, after making love, when they had been living in the base in Lightning, Sakura remembered that she had been lying draped over Itachi's chest, as they'd had some conversation about the ocean and living on the coastline. The other day, as a sort of physical therapy activity, they had been walking along the beach during a break in healing sessions, and he had casually referenced something she'd said then, about beached whales. The memory of the context of the original conversation had hit them both at the same time, and for the rest of the walk, they had stayed absolutely silent.

She hadn't been lying when she told him that she was happy to be here. As embarrassing as it was, every day, Sakura would catch herself looking at Itachi a moment too long, just out of pure amazement and joy that he was alive, against all odds. Still, being here was hard, on all fronts. It was a strange, heavy emotional burden just as taxing as the physical strain of healing had been. _That _was the reason she was so exhausted every night.

Sakura turned on her side and snuggled up against the comforters with a sigh. But the look on Itachi's face earlier in the evening, when she had pronounced his leg fully healed after a battery of physical testing, had been worth all of it.

The smile faded from her face as the implications of that fact hit her in full. Earlier, during dinner and their moonlight walk on the beach to celebrate, she had been too caught up in her own happiness and pride to realize what the completion of the healing meant. Since Itachi was now completely healed, she had no reason to stay any longer. Her job was done, and now she had to return to Konoha.

The thought made a knot form in Sakura's stomach, and she closed her eyes tight, nauseated at herself – at how much she wished otherwise; at the brief, traitorous thought of _I don't want to go back. _What was wrong with her? Konoha was her home. It was where she belonged, where all of her loved ones were, and where her duty lay. Such thoughts were wrong and utterly uncharacteristic of her, but—

Sakura buried her head in the pillow, frustrated, fisting her hands in the material of the pillowcase. Yes, Konoha was her home, it was where she belonged, but…the thing was…she felt the same way about Itachi, too. She flinched away from admitting it, even within the privacy of her own mind, but it was the truth. As much as being this close to Itachi without being _with _him hurt; as much anguish as it had brought her…she still just could not imagine returning to Konoha and never seeing him again. She still cared for him – _loved him, _there was no point in pretending otherwise – too much for that to be an option. Just the thought of saying goodbye and having it be a permanent separation made her feel like she was being torn apart. She couldn't do it. But at the same time, she couldn't stay.

_Your debt is repaid, Sakura, _her inner self reminded her harshly. _You healed him, and now he can live the peaceful, happy, normal civilian life he's always wanted. If you really loved him, you'd let go and be happy for him. This is over, it can never work out. You've been with him for more than a week and he hasn't given you any inclination that he still harbors the same feelings you do. The two of you are even. It has to end here._

The thought made her heart twist, and Sakura forcibly shut her inner self up, unable to hear anymore. All vestiges of exhaustion had left her. She lay under the covers, as rigid as a board, while her mind kept chasing itself in endless circles of _what if Inner Sakura is right _and _if I just go without saying or doing anything, I'll regret it for the rest of my life._

The next time Sakura cracked a weary eye open, looking at the clock on the bedside table, she gave a muffled groan. It had been two hours of tossing and turning. Her muscles were sore, and she was no closer to making a decision. She glanced up at the sky through the curtains ruefully, resigning herself to the knowledge that she would get no sleep tonight.

* * *

The next morning, Itachi made his way into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes exhaustedly. The completion of his healing meant that he was finally free to begin his search for Madara and Sasuke, and he had been awake for most of the night, lost in thoughts and plans. He paused momentarily, scanning the room a second time, a slight frown creasing his brow. This was the first time that he had found himself awake and in the kitchen before Sakura.

_Unusual, _Itachi mused, as he opened the refrigerator to pull out the carton of eggs. Perhaps she was taking the opportunity to catch up on some well-deserved rest. Over the past week, he had urged her to refrain from overexerting herself, and take the healing slowly – for reasons beyond the purely altruistic, he reluctantly admitted – but she had refused. Likely out of a desire to return to Konoha as soon as possible. He sighed softly, feeling his chest tighten. But he couldn't blame her; it was only natural.

In an attempt to put the thought out of his mind, he began preparing breakfast and tea for the both of them. With every step around the kitchen and every movement of his arm, he marveled at the thoroughness with which Sakura had healed the afflicted limbs. His arm and leg felt even better than they had before his fight with Sasuke. He had been injured for so long that the ability to move normally, with his typical fluidity of motion and without pain, actually made him feel a little off balance. It would take some time to become re-accustomed to this…which he had to do before beginning the hunt for Madara.

Itachi set Sakura's plate down in front of her usual spot at the table, carefully buttering and sugaring her toast just the way she liked it, before turning to his cup of tea. He curled his hands around the mug, feeling the warmth spread through his fingers and into his hands, up his arms. Though spring had come, the nights were still chilly, and the sofa and knit blankets weren't quite big enough to cover him entirely. He hoped Sakura had a more restful night than he had. His bed was comfortable, and the blankets warm. That was why he insisted that she take the bedroom, despite her initial refusals. It was important that she be well-rested.

Itachi took a sip of tea, too preoccupied to fully appreciate the flavor. Now that he thought of it, though, Sakura had seemed tense, somehow, for the past few days; not quite herself in a way that couldn't be wholly attributed to chakra exhaustion or physical strain.

The sound of the rush of water in the bathroom distracted him momentarily, and Itachi glanced toward the hallway. When he turned back, the calendar pinned to the kitchen wall caught his attention briefly, and he took it in, counting back the days until he reached the one in which Sakura had re-entered his life so unexpectedly. She had been with him for just over one week, he realized now; draining the cup of tea in one gulp.

And aside from his anxiety about Sasuke's whereabouts and apprehension as to what Madara was planning, this week had been the happiest week he'd experienced in almost a year. Since before he had been forced to return Sakura to Konoha. It had nothing to do with the healing, and everything to do with the company. With _her. _Itachi lifted a hand, rubbing it wearily across the back of his aching neck. He knew that things were different between them now. He understood that there was no chance that Sakura still held the same feelings for him as she once had, after all that had happened.

And yet…he remembered thinking, once, when he had first met her, that Sakura made him feel like he could breathe again. That she added a certain brightness to his life that couldn't be replicated. Their circumstances had changed dramatically since then, but that still held true. Being around her still brought Itachi the same joy it always had – even though, technically, their relationship had reverted to a platonic one. He had missed her so much, over the months of separation, that he _almost _didn't mind it. Every time he would catch himself wishing for more, he would remind herself that having her near – as a friend, if nothing else – was better than nothing at all.

He would lose that soon, as well. Itachi stretched his arm out before him, tapping his foot on the kitchen floor. Whole and healthy…and the reason that he couldn't keep Sakura here for much longer. All of the breath left his body in a sigh as he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands for a few moments. He would have never thought that the sensation of having function restored to his limbs would be so bittersweet.

Over the course of this week, he had been so foolishly wrapped up in his own happiness, like a child, that he had forgotten that this would not be a permanent arrangement. That it had an expiration date. This had just been a mission to Sakura, albeit a self-imposed one, with an objective and a start and end date, like any other. In her eyes, the debt she felt that she owed him was repaid…meaning that she could now return to Konoha and resume her normal life with a clear conscience.

The thought of Sakura leaving, and having it _truly _be a permanent separation this time, hurt more than it ought to. _What did you expect? _an inner voice asked harshly. _That she would stay forever?_

He would be lying if he said he hadn't imagined it (at least once a day, to be specific). Sakura had told him once that she always wanted to live near the ocean. There was a hospital not too far from here, where there would certainly be a place for someone with her prodigious medical skill and talent. He could continue to teach history at the local school and accept a full-time position instead of his current part-time one. This was a quiet, peaceful place, ideal for settling down and maybe someday raising a family, if Sakura wanted. They could be happy together.

Itachi felt his fingers tighten around the handle of the empty mug, before going limp all at once, as if defeated. Except that wasn't what she wanted. At first, when Sakura had arrived here, he had driven himself to near insanity, wondering whether it was some kind of sign; whether it was some manifestation of fate. It was similar to the storm of doubts and insecurities he'd experienced in regard to whether to go through with his ultimate plan or not after Sakura had changed everything by healing his illness and unexpectedly giving him a second chance of life. For hours, he had wondered whether this was some sort of opportunity that the gods were giving him to rekindle his relationship with Sakura; whether her arrival here meant something. He had observed her carefully over the first few days, searching for something he wasn't sure even existed. In the end, he had been proven right.

Maybe that was what Sakura, the Akatsuki medic who had grown up in Rain, wanted…but it wasn't what Sakura Haruno, kunoichi of the Leaf, wanted. Her home was in Konoha, where her loved ones were and where her duty lay. She belonged there. He had stripped her of her identity once…and had turned down the opportunity to do it again, permanently. The prospect had been tempting, but he had rejected Kisame's suggestion, because it had been _wrong. _He knew then, as he knew now, what was right.

That didn't make it hurt any less. Itachi looked down at his hands numbly, seeing the pale half-moon circles where his fingernails had bitten into his palms. He didn't recall the context in which it had been discussed, but he remembered his mother telling him once, _if you truly love somebody, you must always do what is best for them. Even if it means letting them go._

Itachi exhaled slowly, remembering in painful detail the thoughts that had run through his mind on the night he had knocked Sakura unconscious and returned her to Konoha. His fingers trembled, and he curled them into fists. This was the same, really. The same principle. Except that doing it the first time had been wrenchingly difficult enough, and he didn't think he could bear to do it a second time—

Then again, he didn't think he could bear to execute his own family, either. He didn't think he could bear to let go of Sakura the first time.

But he had to. Just like everything else, he had to, for her sake, and if it meant that she would be happy, he would do it. And perhaps it was for the best that he remain free of any romantic entanglements. He was going to hunt down Madara soon, and do what he should have done years ago. And if the effort cost him his life, that was an acceptable price to pay for Sasuke and Konoha's safety.

The rationalizations were sound, Itachi knew that. But they didn't make this any less of an agonizingly bitter pill to swallow.

* * *

In what had surely been a lifetime first, the hot shower had done little to calm Sakura down or wake her up, as she had spent close to the entire night tossing and turning. By the time she walked into the kitchen, she already felt anxious. The sight of Itachi, standing near the sink and putting last night's dishes away, only made her stomach clench up in a tighter knot, and she looked away hastily. He had made breakfast for her, and though it had been more than twelve hours since dinner and she _should _have been hungry, her nerves made the plate of food look utterly unappetizing.

"Good morning, Sakura. Did you sleep well?"

She felt his eyes on her – for some reason, Itachi sounded tired as well – but Sakura couldn't bring herself to return the greeting beyond a simple nod, as she made her way to the table and sat down heavily. The only sound in the room was the clinking of the dishes against one another as Itachi set them back on the shelf. She struggled to think of a graceful way to broach the topic, as she twisted her fingers together anxiously.

But nothing came, and before Sakura could let her nerves get the better of her, she spoke up, her words sounding too loud in the quiet room. "I have to leave for Konoha either today or tomorrow. I've been gone for too long, and they need me; it's not fair to leave Shizune to handle all the work herself." The pink-haired kunoichi stopped abruptly, biting back the words that she couldn't say.

For a few tense moments, Itachi was so quiet and still that she doubted he had even heard her, but then he came to join her at the table. Sakura couldn't quite bring herself to look up from her toast at him, but through her peripheral vision, she couldn't discern any noticeable reaction from the way he inclined his head.

"I understand," Itachi said quietly. After a moment, he reached out and touched her hand lightly, his hesitation palpable. The words he had in mind sounded too formal and impersonal, considering everything they had been through and everything he really wanted to say, and he struggled with himself for a few moments.

"I appreciate all the help you have given me," he managed at last, trying to convey the weight of the emotions he couldn't express. "I can't thank you enough."

His touch felt like an electric current through her skin, and in that moment, Sakura made up her mind. She impulsively grabbed Itachi's hand before he could pull away, locking her gaze with his surprised one. "Come back with me," she said, hardly able to hear her own voice over the pounding of her heart. "Please."

The rest of it was on the verge of spilling out – about how she couldn't just go back; couldn't imagine her life without him – but Sakura forced it back, as she released Itachi's hand. She hadn't seen him look this stunned since the day she had first shown up here. As calm as she tried to sound, she could still hear herself stammer.

"A-after I accidentally found out the truth about – what happened – Tsunade-shishou granted you a posthumous official pardon, which revoked all criminal status. She told Kakashi-sensei, and he told Naruto, and the news…kind of spread all over Konoha, it was that shocking. Anyway, shishou would definitely want you back in the village if she knew you were alive. You could probably get some kind of job as well. You wouldn't have to practice as a shinobi if you don't want to, because obviously you're brilliant and have other talents, and I know there's a vacancy in the tactician's office, if you're interested."

Sakura was vaguely aware of the overwhelmed expression on Itachi's face, and the fact that she was talking extremely fast, but she just couldn't seem to stop herself. "Besides, if you come to Konoha, you won't have to act alone – Tsunade-shishou would want to know everything that you know about Madara, so then she could send out a team to retrieve Sasuke and kill Madara, and Sasuke's going to stay in the village after we find him, so the two of you can get a chance to be together—"

Sakura stopped abruptly, finding that she was completely out of breath. She glanced at Itachi – who looked as though she had just smashed her plate over his head – apologetically. He lowered his forgotten cup of tea to the table without taking a sip, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. He could see how intently Sakura was watching him, and he couldn't fail to notice the anxious expression on her face.

Itachi tried to smile, for her sake, but he could feel that it didn't quite work. The shock was too great, and it took him a few moments to find his voice again. "This is…very unexpected," he told her at last. "…May I have some time to think about it?

He tried to gentle his words by resting his hand on hers, and he was startled to feel that her hand was trembling minutely. Sakura nodded at once. "Of course," she said, rather forcefully. "Take all the time you need." She turned back to her breakfast, lowering her head so that her hair fell over her face and hid it from view.

Itachi watched her for a few moments, caught himself doing so, and then hastily left the kitchen. Regardless of the chilly early morning coastal temperatures, all he wanted was some fresh air. A walk by the sea was always calming, and he needed that to sort out his thoughts and attempt to quiet the confusion raging inside of him. He was already starting to wonder whether he had imagined Sakura's offer; it was that surreal and impossible to wrap his mind around.

It was just a short walk to the shore line, and within moments, Itachi was standing on the beach. It was empty today, the water and breeze calm. He stood for a little while, taking it in. The sky was stormy and gray, the water appearing a dull green. He had intended to walk, but found that he had no energy to spare. He sat down right there on the sand, huddled in his Akatsuki cloak. Technically, there was no need to wear it anymore, but perversely enough considering that he opposed all that the organization stood for, he found the garment strangely comforting. It was high-quality material, one of the most comfortable things he had ever owned. And it was familiar, after all; it had been an essential part of his wardrobe for the past ten years.

Itachi sighed, picking a seashell from the sand and running his thumb over the ridges absentmindedly. Ten years. It had been a decade since he had been forced to leave Konoha, and not a day had passed that he didn't think of his former home. He had traveled the world twice over, and yet he had never ceased to miss the place where he had grown up. It was true that the idealistic visions he had as a child had been destroyed, as he knew better than most people about the village's dark secrets, but that didn't change the attachment he felt to the place.

The truth was nothing was as it seemed anywhere, and Konoha was a very different place now than it was when he had been a child. He would never have been able to even contemplate setting foot in the village again if the Sandaime, Danzou, and the Council of Elders were still in power, but in recent years, there had been a dramatic shift from the regime he remembered. From what he had heard through Sakura and others, the Fifth Hokage was very different from her predecessors. She would be sure to appoint a successor similar to herself (_Naruto, _Sakura had said dryly over dinner a few days ago, _it's no big secret). _The old Council of Elders had been dismissed, and most importantly…Danzou had been imprisoned, facing execution for conspiring to murder the Hokage. Root had even been disbanded.

_Everything has changed, _Sakura told him seriously. _What happened ten years ago would never be allowed to happen now. _

And now she was giving him the chance to go back.

It was something that he had never even allowed himself to dream about. As was the idea that he had been cleared of all charges, his criminal status revoked – posthumously reinstated as an honorable Konoha shinobi. Itachi paused and let it sink in, and felt a surprising tightness in his throat. It meant more to him than he would have anticipated. And if he had heard it from the mouths of anybody besides Sakura or Kisame, he would have thought it unbelievable – a trap, to be sure.

But it was real. It was a serious option. For the first time in his life, clutching the seashell as though it were a lifeline, Itachi tentatively began to explore the idea of returning to Konoha, struggling to imagine what it would be like. There were a multitude of considerations to be addressed, and the first one made him wince slightly. Sakura had mentioned that the truth had spread around Konoha. That was exactly what he had never wanted to happen. He hadn't wanted his clan's honor to be besmirched; for its traitorous secrets to be revealed. There would be many people who would say his family had got what they deserved for plotting a coup to overthrow Konoha's government, and Itachi's lips twisted bitterly. It was a disservice to the memory of his parents and elders.

It was also a secret that he had kept close for so long, and one that he had gone to such great lengths to conceal. It was strange to think that it was now common knowledge to everybody in the village. _Think about it this way, _an inner voice pointed out. The fact that the shinobi of Konoha knew the truth meant that he stood less of a chance of facing extreme ostracism and hostility in the event of his hypothetical return. This was a valid point, and Itachi resolved to ask Sakura about that later. He had no desire to return to a place where he would be despised.

He frowned thoughtfully, tracing a finger in the sand. In the aftermath of his battle with Sasuke – well, one good thing had come out of his lasting injuries. Itachi had enjoyed his effective retirement as a shinobi, and Sakura had said that if he went back to Konoha, he would not be obligated to resume active duty. That was perhaps the thing he was most wary about. Healed or not, he had no desire to work as a shinobi again. This was the first time in his life that he had the power to make that choice. Working as a tactician would be infinitely more palatable; it was the kind of job he had desired as a teenager. When he had suggested the idea to his father, the head of the clan had scowled at him. _You want a desk job, with your talents? _he asked brusquely. _It would be a waste._

Itachi closed his eyes, trying to think things through in a logical manner. But more than anything else, his mind kept returning to the last thing Sakura had told him. If he went back to Konoha and informed the Hokage about Madara, she would likely mobilize one or more teams of Konoha's best, considering the immediate threat the elder Uchiha posed. Though he did think he could defeat Madara alone, there was strength in numbers. They would kill Madara. Retrieve Sasuke. And of course, after that, the Hokage would want Sasuke to remain in the village permanently.

Itachi held onto the thought, feeling his heartbeat accelerate slightly. It was foolish to hope for an immediate reconciliation, but maybe, someday, if they were living in the same village…it made that idea more plausible. It was a one-of-a-kind chance. There was nothing that he wanted more than for the two of them to finally get the chance to be the brothers that they used to be, before.

Despite the cold, Itachi felt his face warm a little as he reached up to sweep the stray locks of hair away from his eyes. Well…there was something that he wanted just as much. He would be deceiving himself if he maintained that it wasn't a significant factor in this decision. It was not in his nature to be overly optimistic about such things, but Sakura's manner as she asked him to return to Konoha with her was not the calm, composed manner of somebody who was only delivering a message because it was in the village's best interests, or even because she thought it was what the Hokage would want. He knew Sakura; he could tell when she was nervous. It was painfully clear that this was important to her, and what she wanted his answer to be. For whatever reason – not necessarily romantic, he qualified hastily – she _wanted _him to come back with her. She _wanted _him nearby. Even if it wasn't because of any romantic feelings – which was likely.

Itachi took a deep breath, hardly daring to believe the audacity of his own thoughts. It was true, though. Sakura had fallen in love with him once. As things stood now, she had forgiven him. She enjoyed his company on a platonic level. And maybe, in time – if he worked hard to make her remember what had drawn her to him in the first place – she could fall in love with him again.

Returning to Konoha meant that there would be hope. For a chance with Sakura, with Sasuke, at a new future.

Itachi looked up at the sky, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. His mind was made up – but then, there hadn't even been much to decide. He rose, dusting himself off, before carrying the seashell he had been holding to the ocean and setting it back into the water. The sun had come out, and he enjoyed the feeling of the sunshine and the breeze against his face during the short walk to the house.

He found the kitchen empty, Sakura's wet plate and glass drying on the rack. The sitting room was abandoned as well, and Itachi found her in the bedroom, her summoning scroll tossed on the bed as she neatly folded her clothes and underclothes. Her back was to the door, and he cleared his throat a little awkwardly, knocking twice, before stepping inside. "Sakura?"

She turned as red as a beet, and swept her underclothes into the scroll hastily, turning to face him. "Yes?"

Itachi couldn't help but smile softly at the expression on her face. "When are we leaving?"

Sakura froze for an instant, her knuckles going white around the scroll as comprehension dawned, and then her entire face lit up in the most radiant smile he had ever seen. She pounced on him and threw her arms around his neck with such force that the scroll whacked him in the head. Uncaring to the stars that exploded behind his eyes, Itachi returned the embrace wholeheartedly, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close, savoring the contact. "I am so happy that you're coming back," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

Itachi smiled down at her hair, touched. "I am as well."

Much to his disappointment, Sakura pulled back then, looking into his eyes earnestly. "Are you sure? I mean…" she hesitated briefly. "I don't want you to be unhappy or uncomfortable, going back to the place where…"

She trailed off, but Itachi understood her meaning. "They are always with me," he responded quietly, involuntarily glancing down at his hands. "The memories…wherever I go. Returning to Konoha should not make it any worse."

Sakura rubbed his arm sympathetically, before drawing back. "All right, then. I want to get to Konoha by dawn tomorrow, which works out well. Kisame's coming back later today, you need to pack, I need to write to Tsunade-shishou and tell her the truth…why don't you write to Kisame and let him know? Then I can finish packing, so I can help you…" She trailed off, stopped folding one of her vests, and put a hand to her head.

Itachi watched her with a mixture of amusement and worry, before taking the vest and finishing what she had started. "Don't get yourself exhausted before we even start."

"No, it's not that," Sakura replied, giving him a guilty look. "I just feel bad for breaking you and Kisame up, after so long. He's going to be all alone here, partner-less, for the first time in _years._"

Itachi coughed to mask a laugh. "Your worries are quite unfounded, Sakura."

She looked at him curiously, as she put the vest and a skirt inside her scroll. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Itachi replied evasively, realizing his mistake. "I only meant to say that Kisame is very resilient, and my departure will not cause him excessive distress. Knowing my desire to reunite with Sasuke, he will likely be happy for me."

Sakura frowned at him. "You're lying. I'm sure that's true, but that is _not _what you meant to say, or else you wouldn't have laughed."

Itachi sighed, realizing that she wouldn't back down until she got an answer. Sakura could be extremely stubborn when the occasion called for it. "…I wanted him to tell you. It is not my information to share."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Okay, don't get all difficult. You _have _to tell me now that you've got me all curious, and you brought it up anyway. What is it?"

Itachi debated the merits of giving in now, and then remember that the last time Sakura had felt that he was being _difficult, _she had sat on him and prodded chakra-laden fingers into his ribs, which created the illusion of a merciless tickling. He had no desire to repeat the experience. "Very well," he mumbled, wilting under the pressure of her rapt gaze. "Kisame is…seeing somebody."

Sakura dropped her sealed summoning scroll on the bed, her eyes widening with shock. "_What? _You don't mean—"

Itachi felt his lips twitch in response to the look on her face. "I do. He met her when we arrived at this base, and their relationship is quite serious."

Sakura squealed so loudly that his eardrums threatened to implode, as she bounced up on the balls of her feet and clapped her hands, looking overjoyed. "Kisame has a girlfriend! How did they meet? What's she like – is she nice? You have to tell me all about her. Do you approve? How serious are they? Like, living-together serious? _Engaged _serious?"

Itachi blinked, hardly able to keep up with the rapid-fire barrage of questions. Sakura just raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

"I can tell you everything while we write to the Hokage and Kisame," he offered weakly, resigning himself to the fact that he would likely spend the next hour (or more) informing Sakura of every single detail he knew about Kyoshi and her relationship with his partner.

"That sounds like a plan," Sakura agreed, falling into step beside him. "But you can start now. First, what's her name?"

The next several hours passed in a whirlwind of activity. Both of them composed and sent their messages, and received replies within the hour. _See? _Sakura told him proudly, pointing to Tsunade's response. _She told me that I should try my absolute hardest to convince you to come back, because you would be an invaluable asset to the village, and what she calls 'Sasuke retention' - and because it's your rightful home, of course. _Meanwhile, Itachi had to hide Kisame's response in his cloak, because it contained multiple references to his upcoming _elopement _with Sakura. Then, the two of them packed all of his things, ate a quick lunch, and took a nap – lying on opposite sides of the same bed – and after that, it was already time to prepare dinner.

And, throughout it all, Sakura had made him talk so much his throat hurt. Itachi repaid the favor by asking her a multitude of questions about Konoha and its current shinobi, her peers, all of which she answered cheerfully, obviously excited to return to her home.

For dinner, the two of them made a simple dish of stir-fried rice and fish, one of Kisame's favorites. When Itachi turned the radio on while she was frying the fish, Sakura couldn't help but think back to the first time they had ever cooked together, in the base in Lightning. The memory felt like a painful squeeze to the heart. At that time, it had been a beginning. This was a new start as well – Itachi's last night before starting over in Konoha – but in a very different way. The thought had occurred to her that once people overcame their initial wariness, it was only natural that other women would be interested in him, civilians and kunoichi alike. Itachi was kind, intelligent, gentle, handsome…the head of a clan with massive financial assets that would be unfrozen once he came back to Konoha…it was easy to see him eclipsing Neji as Konoha's most sought-after man.

_And why shouldn't he be happy with one of them? _Sakura thought, glancing at Itachi out of the corner of her eye, through the cover provided by her hair. There was no bitterness in her, just a dull sense of mingled sorrow and resignation. Itachi was one of the best people she had ever met. He deserved to find happiness in his new life – with somebody who hadn't already broken his heart. She wanted him to be happy. And as she had thought earlier, it was time for her to move on as well. This was the beginning of a new chapter in both of their lives, and she would be glad if she could always keep his friendship.

Just as it had happened so long ago, Kisame's sudden arrival interrupted her train of thought. The front door banged open and shut so loudly that she jumped and Itachi almost dropped their chopsticks and plates on the floor. Kisame appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with remarkable speed, grinning broadly. "Look at this!" he exclaimed. "It's just like old times!"

Kisame's presence banished her melancholy, as it usually did, and after he and Itachi exchanged greetings, Kisame marveling at the thoroughness of his healing, Sakura embraced him and gave him a playful punch on the arm at the same time. "How could you have forgotten to tell me that you were seeing somebody! We certainly spent a lot of time chatting before you told me the truth about Itachi!"

"Because I knew you'd be an obnoxious little brat and tease me about it," Kisame replied with a long-suffering sigh, glancing over at his partner. "I already had to put up with this one here acting like a proud parent—"

Sakura laughed at the mental image while Itachi raised an eyebrow stoically, doing nothing to deny the truth. He had been very pleased when Kisame finally decided to listen to his advice and begin a relationship with Kyoshi. He and Kisame didn't see eye-to-eye on many issues, but he had always known that at the core, his partner was a truly good person. He deserved the unique happiness and stability that came with a serious long-term relationship.

They eventually sat down to eat, and over the course of their long dinner and conversation, Itachi was hit by a wave of nostalgia. The three of them sitting around the table together again – it felt _right. _They were all very different people, with vastly differing loyalties and connections, thrown together by strange circumstances. And yet, they still made a solid and happy small team – perhaps the unlikeliest trio ever.

It was late when Sakura finally looked up at the clock, during a momentary lull in conversation, and gave a start of surprise. "Oh – we were supposed to leave an hour ago! Kisame, you shouldn't have given me this sake…"

While his partner teased Sakura about what a lightweight she was, Itachi closed his eyes briefly, trying to gather his thoughts. His feelings were mixed, to say the least. All of his possessions felt heavy in the summoning scroll tucked inside his pocket. His Akatsuki cloak, discarded for the last time, lay folded on his bare mattress. He would be lying if he claimed that he wasn't anxious about the drastic impending change in his circumstances. He was not experiencing any second thoughts about his decision – but for the past ten years, this lifestyle had been all he knew, and the departure from it was so shockingly abrupt. Twelve hours ago, he had been under the impression that Sakura would return to Konoha and he would never see her – let alone the village – ever again. Sakura had assured him that such feelings were to be expected, but still, it was disconcerting.

Sakura had stood up and was double-checking her summoning scroll, while Kisame assured her that he was capable of cleaning up the dishes himself (on the short term) and maintaining a healthy, balanced diet in the long term. She looked slightly tearful, and only smiled when he sighed and exasperatedly said that between her and Kyoshi's nagging, he would live to be a hundred. Itachi watched as they exchanged a brief hug, and Kisame ruffled Sakura's hair as she pulled back. "Remember that you're always welcome to stop by if you ever take a vacation from your workaholic habits, kid. And take good care of Itachi."

"I will," Sakura promised seriously, before she batted her eyelashes up at Kisame. "I'll feed him, and walk him, and toss him his favorite red ball if he gets too sulky—"

They shared a laugh at his expense, while Itachi looked on disapprovingly. Finally, Sakura waved goodbye at Kisame and walked out, leaving the two of them alone. Kisame turned to him then, and Itachi felt a sigh escape his throat, briefly overwhelmed by a rush of memories – from the early days of their partnership, to the most recent…Kisame lifting his broken body from the floor of the cave where he and Sasuke had fought. _Sorry, kid. But the way I see it, you still have a chance at survival. And I am not just going to let you die. _Aside from Sasuke and Sakura, the former Mist-nin was the most significant figure in his life; a constant, familiar, oddly comforting day-to-day presence. "Kisame…"

Kisame patted his shoulder once, and Itachi remembered that the first time he had done that, he had been a slender, almost-frail thirteen-year-old, and his knees had buckled under the weight of his hand. "No sentimental goodbyes, kid. We'll see each other again." He grinned in his typical shark-like manner, indicating the front door, where Sakura stood outside, waiting in the cool night. "The same invitation stands. And you had _better _invite me to the wedding."

Itachi felt his face burn. "I could say the same to you," he retorted, but Kisame just roared with laughter.

He was still blushing a little as he stepped out the front door and joined Sakura. She was admiring the reflection of the moon and the stars in the ocean, and she turned to him with a smile. "Ready?"

Itachi spared a moment to take in the beauty of the sea and the night sky one last time, before looking back at Sakura. He had been willing to walk to his death for Sasuke. He would follow Sakura to the ends of the earth if she asked. He could only hope that returning to Konoha would give him the chance to truly reunite with the two people he loved most. "…Yes," he replied quietly. "I am."

They traveled mostly in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Sakura set a rapid pace, determined to make up for the time they had lost. Itachi wasn't really surprised to see that her speed and endurance had improved dramatically since she had last traveled with them. Even Kisame, if he were here, would have been forced to give her a compliment.

They made their way on foot to the outskirts of the Land of Tea, and Itachi could see the faintest hint of dawn breaking in the eastern sky when they finally came to a stop. "All right," Sakura said, panting slightly and combing through her windswept hair with her fingers, as she looked south, in the direction of Konoha. "We should be able to use a transportation jutsu from here; we've narrowed the distance enough, so I think we're in range."

She reached her hand out to him, and Itachi took it, his heartbeat accelerating in a way that had nothing to do with the recent physical exertion. He had just enough time to savor the feeling of her small hand in his own, palm pressed against his, fingers tangled together, before he felt her chakra run through him like a bolt of lightning. There was a wrenching sensation, and an instant later, they stood in the painfully familiar forest outside Konoha – almost in the same spot that he had left the unconscious Sakura, close to a year ago.

She released his hand and stepped onto the path leading to the East Gate – visible through the trees, toweringly high, and emblazoned with the insignia that he knew so well. The same one that marked the metal of his slashed forehead protector. Itachi fought the urge to lift a hand to his forehead self-consciously, while Sakura motioned for him to join her.

They walked down the path side-by-side, Itachi's mind racing. It was foolish, he knew, but he kept anticipating his own awakening. This was so surreal it could only be a dream. He had never imagined that there would ever be a day that he could simply walk through the gates of his former home, instead of sneaking in under cover of genjutsu, like a common criminal.

"All right," Sakura whispered to him, as they approached the gates. "Tsunade-shishou told the jounin squad on duty that there would be somebody coming back with me tonight, so there's no need to worry about that. We don't want to cause a commotion just yet either – it's dark, but if you could just look down at the ground while we go in…"

Itachi obliged, and when the guards caught sight of Sakura, they called out a greeting and waved her through without further comment. His nerves were on edge, his spine tingling, as he crossed the perimeter of the gates, and once they were out of sight of the guardpost, Sakura rested a reassuring hand on his arm. "It's okay," she breathed. "Relax."

He made a conscious effort, focusing instead on taking in the familiar sights of the village, which was utterly empty at this hour. It seemed that nothing had changed in the years that he had been gone. It was like no time had passed whatsoever; like he could blink and see the men of the Uchiha Police Force patrolling the streets; his younger cousins playing in the playground; his grandmother coming out of the library where she volunteered her time; his aunts at the market, trying to pick the sweetest fruit or congregating at the stalls of the foreign vendors who bought their imported jewelry… But then Itachi closed his eyes and opened them again and remembered that they were all ten years gone, and it was him, only him and Sasuke remaining. It was overwhelming. Disorienting. He expected to run into Shisui and Megumi around every corner they turned. The feeling would take some time to pass, he knew that. Until then, he would have to become accustomed to this perpetual feeling of unsettlement.

The sun was barely rising over the top of Hokage Mountain when they arrived at the tower. "We can go up," Sakura told him, when he hesitated. "Tsunade-shishou always gets there early."

They climbed the long flights of spiral stairs, Itachi's apprehension mounting with every step. They had barely arrived outside the door the Hokage's office when her voice rang out, firm and authoritative – not unlike Sakura's. "You may enter."

"There's never any point in knocking," Sakura told him in an undertone, obviously trying to set him at ease a little. "She knows who it is by the moment you hit the top stair, even if you have your chakra masked."

She swung the door open and they walked inside, and even though Itachi knew he had essentially been invited back to Konoha with the express permission of the Hokage, he still felt himself tense up –more because of the memories associated with the office than anything else. Tsunade was standing at the window, looking down over the village, her brow furrowed with thought, and when she saw them, she turned. "Sakura. Uchiha."

They bowed and straightened in unison, murmuring the traditional respectful greeting. Tsunade shook her head in apparent amazement as she took in the two of them, her gaze lingering on Itachi. "Dead," she said at last, folding her arms, and he caught a faint glitter of humor in her eyes. "I do believe this is the largest misjudgment that Kakashi has ever made."

"It was close," Itachi responded quietly, remembering the state he had been in when he had finally regained consciousness, after a month. "Very close."

"What happened, exactly?"

Itachi recounted the slightly modified story he and Sakura had agreed on – that she had run into Kisame in the Land of Tea while working to solve the mystery illness that had plagued the villagers. Kisame told her the truth about his being alive, and how he had been healed by another member of the Akatsuki. After Sakura was finished with her work at the clinic, she had gone to their outpost in Tea and found him there, before enlightening him as to the truth about what happened to Sasuke after the battle. He repeated to the Hokage everything he had told Sakura about Madara, and voiced his theory about Madara using Sasuke in some kind of strike against the village, answering her many questions along the way. By the time Itachi finally finished, his throat aching somewhat after the uncharacteristically long speech, Tsunade had paced at least fifty circles around her desk, her expression growing more and more troubled. Sakura leaned against the wall, the look on her face matching Tsunade's.

"I assume Sakura relayed the contents of my message to you," Tsunade said at last, coming to a stop and facing him. "I believe that you would be an invaluable asset in a mission to hunt down and neutralize Madara Uchiha, while retrieving Sasuke and returning him to Konoha." Itachi inclined his head once, and she continued. "I also find it reasonable to assume that your continued, long-term presence here may make Sasuke less resistant to staying in the village permanently. If you decide to stay, as we have no doubts as to your loyalty, your status as an honorable shinobi of Konoha would be fully reinstated. There is no obligation to resume active duty – unless, of course, you wish to. If you decide to stay, your clan's assets will be unfrozen and handed over to you, and the village will provide temporary housing until you settle in. If active duty shinobi work is not something that you desire, there are other positions within internal departments that your qualifications make you eligible to hold. Is this arrangement something you would be interested in?"

Beside him, Sakura appeared to be holding her breath, her tension palpable. Itachi closed his hands into fists to hide the way they were trembling. The offer was no surprise, but the words still had a powerful emotional impact on him. "Yes, Hokage-sama," he replied, and it took an effort to keep his voice steady. "I am."

Tsunade smiled slightly. "Good. Welcome back, Uchiha." She looked him over briefly. "There's one last thing to take care of, then. Give me a moment."

She turned and walked back to the cabinets behind her desk. Assuming that it was a record of some oath that he needed to sign and swear to, Itachi turned away, looking toward Sakura and intending to thank her. She smiled up at him, her eyes full of tears, and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"Sakura," Tsunade called then, before he had a chance to react, her back still to them.

"The blue would be best, shishou," Sakura replied, releasing his hand and taking a small step away.

Itachi was trying to puzzle out the confusing remark, and wondering where that moment could have led if the two of them had been alone, when Tsunade made her way back to them, holding a long, nondescript rectangular box in her hands. "You'll be needing this," she said, pressing it into his grip.

A little warily, Itachi flipped it open – and the breath caught in his chest out of pure surprise. A brand-new Konoha forehead protector lay nestled in the box. The dark blue ribbon still had a sheen to it, and the polished metal shone bright silver; but above all, his eyes were drawn to the proud emblem of Konoha emblazoned on the surface. It was whole, unblemished…free of the deep slash that gouged through his first one, and he felt his throat close over.

"It's only appropriate," Sakura said quietly, while Tsunade nodded her agreement.

Itachi's fingers were clumsy as she reached into the box; took both ends of the ribbon, and carefully tied it around his head. He had received his first at the age of five, when he had solemnly sworn to be an honorable Konoha shinobi, to be loyal to the village above all else, and to defend it with his life and to the death. At thirteen, he had removed the forehead protector, put it on his dresser, and stared at it – remembered all that it stood for and all that it symbolized – when he had been agonizing over whether to confess his family's plot to the Sandaime or not. It was at thirteen, after his last mission as a Konoha shinobi, that he felt he had truly fulfilled his oath; that he had done the right thing. He had wept when he had defaced the metal with his kunai, dragging the point from end to end, while remembering all that throats he had slit with that same stroke, mere days earlier.

Now, Itachi touched his forehead, feeling the unmarked surface as his head span. He felt so much older now, older than his years, but it was like being five again; his whole life stretching before him like so many empty pages. A fresh start.

Sakura reached up and touched the corner of his eye lightly, brushing away the single tear that threatened to fall. "There," Tsunade commented, regarding him with a satisfied look on her face. "It suits you. Sakura, you were right about the blue. Now, how about a toast?"

Sakura turned and fixed her with a look not unlike the one she used on Kisame whenever he sneakily replaced all the tofu in her recipes with beef. "Shishou, it is _seven in the morning._"

"Very well," Tsunade sighed reprovingly. "You're getting to be as bad as Shizune. While we're all here, then, can you bring out the large map to my desk? Now, Uchiha, when Sakura gets here, I want you to take these pins and identify the five places you mentioned earlier, where Madara likes to hide himself when he's not in Rain…"

The brilliant morning sun spilled into the Hokage's office and over the large map as Sakura spread it onto the desk. Itachi leaned forward and placed the first pin onto the map, on the border between Sound and Stone. A small gesture, but somehow, it made the end goal of locating Madara – and Sasuke – seem much more attainable. They had taken the first step. The weight and warmth of the forehead protector was comforting on his head.

_Seven in the morning, _Itachi thought to himself, pinning down the second location while Sakura and the Hokage watched, and it had already been one of the best days of his life.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Hello again, everybody! I am so, so sorry for the super long wait for this chapter. Real life really got away from me last semester, and things were pretty nightmarish academically. The excess stress caused an episode of writer's block, and it took me a while to get over that as well. Hopefully things should be better this semester, but even if it is slow going, I am always working on this fic in some way or another. Also, the talented and lovely **Komo Pineconeseed **has completed another adorable ItaSaku fanart for this story, based on Chapter Seven, and the link is on my profile if you want to check it out. :)

Bluebird is also entering its final arc. I haven't finished my exact outline yet, but I believe that the story will be wrapped up in around three chapters. Thank you for your patience – this story has been in progress for close to a year, and all of you have been so supportive throughout. I appreciate it so much. Thank you for reading. :)


	18. The Attack, Part I

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was sweet enough to leave a review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Eighteen: The Attack, Part I_

* * *

"Are you sure you don't need any help unpacking your things?"

Itachi tore his astonished gaze away from the unbelievably lavish, fully furnished apartment to look back at Sakura. She leaned against the wall, an amused expression on her face. "I felt the same way when I first walked into mine. Just wait until you see the bathroom."

Itachi shook his head, still partly unable to believe it. He didn't think he would fully accept that this was his reality and not a very wild dream until about a week had passed. "Thank you, Sakura, but I think it will only take a few minutes." As much as he would have liked her to stay, he knew that she needed to get back to work if she wanted to leave before nightfall. When the Hokage had talked to her about all the work that she had to catch up on, Sakura's face had taken on a faintly greenish tinge. "…Although I would appreciate it if we could go grocery shopping this evening, if you are still willing."

Sakura nodded, giving him a bright smile. "I'll meet you in front of the grocery store at seven, then. Have a good day!" She hugged him quickly and then headed out the door, her good mood contagious.

Itachi stared at the closed door for a few moments, all the breath leaving his body in a short sigh. Eventually, after exploring the entirety of the apartment, he began unpacking. It felt strange, to arrange his scrolls and books on the shelves; his soap and shampoo and toothbrush and comb in the bathroom; to settle his clothes in the drawers. For the past ten years, since joining the Akatsuki, he hadn't lived in a permanent home. It was a nomadic existence, traveling between bases in the different countries every few months. It had been a tolerable arrangement, better than the lifestyle of most missing-nin, but he had missed the feeling of being truly settled somewhere, and stable.

Itachi was in the middle of folding his clothes, lost in thought, when he heard a loud, insistent knock on the front door. It definitely wasn't Sakura's, and he frowned, setting the shirt down, before making his way to the door. There was a small viewing window at eye level, and he peered through it cautiously. Outside the door stood a boy about Sasuke's age, dressed in a violently orange jumpsuit, and holding a large bag of what appeared to be take-out in one hand. He grinned and waved enthusiastically with the other.

It had been six years since he had last seen this individual - and under very different circumstances. Still, Itachi recognized him instantaneously. "Naruto," he greeted, as he opened the door. "It is nice to see you. Would you like to come in?"

"Itachi!" Naruto greeted him with all the exuberance of a long-lost friend, and he quietly marveled at how forgiving the younger shinobi was. Naruto had, after all, spent several years thinking that he was out to capture him, with the intent of extracting the Kyuubi, at the cost of his own life. Even though Sakura had assured him that the people of Konoha had known the truth for months, this reception was still a little surprising, although definitely not unwelcome. Naruto set the food down on the coffee table and beamed. "So, I ran into Sakura-chan a little while ago, and I asked her about where she's _been _for all this time - she told us that mission in Tea would only take a day, and she's been gone for like weeks - and then she told me this amazing story!" He gave the surprised Itachi a solid pat on the back, one that came close to Kisame's in strength. "Welcome back! It's going to be great to have you here, you seem pretty cool. And since I'm the official head of the Welcome Committee here in Konoha, I figured that I should stop by and say hi. Oh, and I brought some ramen too, from Ichiraku's. Sakura-chan mentioned that she was going to get groceries with you later, so I thought you would like something for lunch."

The gesture touched Itachi more than he could say, and he invited Naruto to stay for lunch. They ate together (Itachi had traveled around the world, but had never been able to find a bowl of ramen that compared to Ichiraku's), while Naruto talked and asked him questions at a mile a minute. To his surprise, he found that although he had essentially just met Sakura's teammate, he felt comfortable with the extended conversation, and Naruto's company. Naruto shared a lot of his ideals, and his happiness and good-natured, friendly personality strongly reminded him of what Sasuke had been like as a child. This was what Sasuke might have been if the unspeakable tragedy hadn't struck, and Itachi hoped that it wasn't too late, now, for him to rediscover that side of his personality.

After lunch, the two of them eventually ended up fixing Itachi's cable on the television, folding the rest of his clothes, driving out the family of mice they found living in the pantry, and then going to Naruto's apartment to water his potted plants. By the time seven in the evening came around, they stood in front of the grocery store, earnestly discussing which varieties of plants would be best for Itachi's apartment, while waiting for Sakura to arrive.

It was only that night, upon returning to his new apartment, that Itachi realized, with a sense of mild surprise, that if he was assuming correctly, he had just made his first new friend in Konoha.

He started his new job at the tactician's office the next morning. Sakura and Naruto repeatedly assured him not to be nervous, even though he had never really admitted that he was. Despite how exhausting the day was, and his happiness at being befriended by Naruto, Itachi lay awake for most of the night. He tossed and turned restlessly; besieged by worries which multiplied exponentially with every hour he remained awake. Oddly enough, he was reminded of a night years ago, one that he only barely remembered. He must have been about three years old, and just about to start his first day at the Academy. He had lain awake for most of the night, huddled under the covers. Upon hearing a distant telltale creak of the floorboards, the one he had been waiting for all night, Itachi had dashed to the kitchen, slipping on the wooden floor in his sock-clad feet. He had found his mother getting a glass of water, and the instant she saw him, she knew what was on his mind. She walked with him back to his room, sat on his bed, and let him lean against her while she stroked his hair. "_Are you nervous about tomorrow, Itachi-kun?" _she had asked softly.

"_Yes," _he had confessed instantly. It had all spilled out then, his fears and anxieties about how he was afraid that he wouldn't have friends and that nobody would like him and they wouldn't want him there. His mother had done her best to soothe him, holding him close and kissing his forehead. "_Don't worry, Itachi-kun. To know you is to love you."_

Years had passed since then, but his worries were the same. At three, they had been largely unfounded. But now…

Itachi arrived at work forty-five minutes early, so he could have the luxury of walking through the streets of Konoha and the halls of Hokage Tower in solitude. Last evening, when he had been walking to Naruto's apartment, and then to the grocery store and back to his own apartment complex with Sakura, he had been acutely conscious of the stares and whispers that had been directed at him by everybody they passed. Naruto had just ignored them, but Sakura had placed a hand on his arm. "_Don't worry, it'll get better after a couple of days," _she whispered. "_People just need to get used to it, that's all. I don't think there's actually any hostility toward you. The whole story is just…you have to understand that _everybody_ has been talking about it for months, ever since the truth came out." _

Regardless of the peaceful walk here, his nerves were so tightly drawn they were on the verge of snapping. His hand actually shock as he knocked on the door.

For a whole minute, there was nothing. Then the door opened a crack, and Itachi found himself facing a sleepy-looking young man wearing a wrinkled, obviously slept-in jounin uniform. One side of his face was covered in ink, evidently from where he had fallen asleep on a piece of paperwork. Before Itachi could introduce himself, the jounin yawned in his face. "Ah, so you're the new guy. Tsunade-sama told me you'd be coming." He opened the door wider, waving Itachi inside. The tactician's office was small and appeared to be overflowing with paperwork. The open filing cabinets were spilling over. Every inch of desk space was covered, and there were at least ten waist-high stacks on the floor. It was almost as offensive to his desire for cleanliness as Naruto's apartment had been, and Itachi took a deep breath, controlling his fingers' natural itch to organize.

"It's going to be nice to finally have some help around here, since apparently you're pretty clever. Renjiro just retired, Toru splits his time between missions and working here, and Yuriko and Chiharu both work from home now, since they just had kids." The jounin gave a long-suffering sigh. "I've been working my ass off and _still _can't keep up with the workflow. It's been very troublesome. My name is Shikamaru Nara, by the way."

Itachi introduced himself, feeling the familiar prick of self-consciousness, bordering on shame. He was aware that in Konoha, it was never really necessary.

Yet, as the hours wore on, Shikamaru slowly put him at ease. Itachi had always been good at reading people, and he easily picked up on the fact that the other shinobi didn't feel uncomfortable because of his presence, which helped him relax as well. Though in terms of manner and personality, Shikamaru was essentially the anti-Naruto - and, like Itachi, preferred brief periods of conversation interspersed with much longer stretches of silence - he was still quite friendly, in his own way. "You know, you're not bad, Uchiha," Shikamaru told him, as the day was drawing to a close. "You catch on quick and you're not too annoying to have around. I think we're going to get along okay, as long as you don't make me cooperate with that weird new organization system you've made."

"Thank you for the compliment," Itachi replied dryly, admiring his handiwork. "And I do believe that you will eventually see the wisdom of this arrangement and choose to cooperate."

"You're welcome. And I won't. Now, what kind of doughnuts do you like? Tomorrow's Wednesday, and my teammate Chouji always brings breakfast for us on Wednesday…"

Itachi went home, collapsed into his bed - all the exhaustion of the past two days and the previous sleepless night catching up with him at once - and breathed a long sigh of relief.

Between long hours at work and evenings spent training with Naruto and his teammate Sai - and often Sakura as well - it didn't take long for him to settle into a comfortable routine, and the days flew by, turning into weeks. Overall, Itachi enjoyed being back in the home he had missed so deeply; the one he had resigned himself to never seeing again. However, there were difficulties as well. Before returning, he had dismissed Sakura's worries that being back in Konoha would trigger painful thoughts and memories of his family. What he had said to her then had been true - those thoughts and memories had always been with him, wherever he had gone. They always would be. Being in Konoha didn't make it any worse, exactly…but it did bring a sense of loneliness, of abandonment, that Itachi hadn't experienced anywhere else. It felt _wrong, _being the only Uchiha in Konoha. His memories of the village were from a time when his family had been one of the most populated clans. The police force had been entirely composed of his male relatives. There had been at least one of his aunts, uncles, or cousins in every chunin, jounin, and ANBU team in Konoha. His aunts had owned quite a few businesses in the village. He - and everybody else - hadn't been able to walk down a single street without seeing at least one Uchiha, probably more. Now…things couldn't be more different, but he still expected to see them around every turn.

One evening, Naruto had been a few minutes late to their training session, and he had been alone in the training ground for a little while. Just like that, Itachi was assaulted with memories that he thought long-forgotten, of training here with Shisui and his several male cousins, and he could almost hear Shisui's voice, teasing him and taunting him about being too slow. When he turned to the left (seven times out of ten, Shisui attacked from the left), there was nothing but empty air. Another time, he had been walking across the red bridge, and he had remembered that he and Megumi used to take walks there every evening. He had reached out his hand, as if searching for hers, and found nothing. Sometimes the feeling was so overwhelming he wanted to cry, "_Where are you?" _to the empty spaces…

And then he remembered. Of course.

Itachi hoped that it would be different, eventually. He had the feeling that bringing Sasuke back would alleviate a lot of the emotions he was experiencing now. He only hoped that the others would treat Sasuke with the same politeness that they treated him - he knew that a lot of people were rightly angry about the fact that his younger brother had deserted his lifelong home to ally with its most hated enemy. But if he could be forgiven… As a rule, people left him to himself, and they still seemed to be slightly wary, but as Sakura had said, there was no overt hostility; not like he had expected.

Contrary to his initial apprehension, Itachi did manage to find a small group of friends. Naruto and Sakura introduced him to Kakashi, who had been in ANBU during the same time he had - they had even gone on a few missions together, and had worked together well. Similarly, Shikamaru had introduced him to his teammates, Chouji Akimichi and Ino Yamanaka. They were both as pleasant as Shikamaru, and Chouji, the gentle, aspiring jounin-sensei and future head of the Akimichi clan, had been among the first to offer an overture of friendship, when he had showed up on Itachi's second day of work with homemade doughnuts, and later invited him to have dinner with his family at the Akimichi compound.

Later on, Itachi had also found out that Shikamaru was friends with Neji Hyuga, when Shikamaru had invited him to join in on their shoji night. Years ago - _when the Uchiha clan still existed, _was his first bitter thought - the Uchiha and Hyuga clans would share occasional family get-togethers a few times a year. They were distantly related, after all, and the most powerful doujutsu users in Konoha. From those occasions, Itachi remembered Neji as being a serious child, a year older than Sasuke, and already an orphan. Even at that young age, the boy's prodigious talent was well known. He remembered some of the Uchiha clan elders making pointed comments along these lines to Sasuke - who would then glower and refuse to socialize pleasantly with Neji for the rest of the night.

The first time he saw Neji, afterwards, Itachi was struck all over again with the realization of how much time had passed. The child in his memory had grown into an incredibly powerful shinobi as tall as he was, with utterly inscrutable white eyes. When Shikamaru had been about to introduce him, Neji shook his head slightly, cutting him off. "I remember you," he said quietly. "…You used to tell my cousins and I stories after dinner, about all the different places you'd traveled on missions."

Neji and Kakashi were really the only people to have known and remembered him from a time _before, _and Itachi was relieved to find that they both still had kind feelings toward him. It didn't take long for him to discover that Naruto, Shikamaru, Chouji, Kakashi, and Neji were all close to each other, as well - the Konoha Eleven, as they were called, were a tight-knit group, and he was grateful that he had found a place with some of them. Once, when he and Sakura had been walking home together after an evening training session, he had mentioned to her how surprised he was that they had been so accepting.

"I'm not," she replied, after a moment's thought. "They're good guys. Probably among the best in the village, honestly. Naruto, Shikamaru, Chouji…they're the kind of people who will always reach out a hand to somebody, especially if that person is new or appears shy or uncertain in some way. Naruto because he wishes that somebody would have done that for him, Chouji because Shikamaru _did _that for him, a long time ago, and Shikamaru because…well, that's him, he's good at looking underneath the underneath, as Kakashi-sensei would say. Even Kakashi and Neji are similar, in their own way. They respect and admire you, and what you did for Konoha. Both of them would have done the same."

Itachi had nodded silently, taking it all in. He knew that he would never, ever be as popular or well-liked around the village as Naruto and Sakura - not even close - but he was perfectly content with the friends he had.

With the exception of Chouji, who was out of the village on a mission, they were all at Ichiraku tonight, at Naruto's insistence. Over the past hour, everybody else, save for Neji - who shared his own wariness of any mind-altering substances - had abandoned their bowls of ramen in favor for shots of sake. The atmosphere was comfortable, despite the look of disgust on Shikamaru's face as he told his story, waving his glass in the air every so often for emphasis.

"All the time," he pronounced slowly. "Every damn day. She keeps pursuing me so aggressively, even though I've told her that I'm still with Temari. It's gotten to the point that I hate going to the Cryptology department for any reason, and even when we request that something be sent up to us, _she's _always the one to deliver it. She seems to think that sheer persistence can break me down or something. So troublesome."

Itachi nodded, corroborating the story, while Naruto and Neji listened attentively. Kakashi raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his drink. "You're not tempted?" he asked curiously. "Not even a little bit?"

Shikamaru snorted unceremoniously. "Are you joking? I can't even count the ways that Temari is better than her – or the rest of her ditzy friends. She's just so…"

He trailed off momentarily, apparently lost for words, and the thoroughly intoxicated Naruto actually giggled, nudging him in the ribs. "You are _sooooo _in love!" he sang, drawing out the _so _until it lasted at least three syllables. "Who would have expected it, from _you _of all people—"

Shikamaru came out of his reverie just in time to send Naruto a look that could have withered paint. "Oh, _you're _one to talk."

All the blood drained out of Naruto's face as he glanced nervously at Neji, who was busy finishing off his stick of dango. "What?" he stammered. "I-I don't know what you're talking about!"

Kakashi and Itachi both coughed to mask their amusement as Neji turned back toward them, a quizzical expression on his face. Itachi had been working in the tactician's office for three days, when Sakura and Shikamaru's best friend and teammate Ino had come up from the interrogations department to share her lunch with Shikamaru. Shikamaru had introduced her, and Ino told him excitedly that Sakura had told her all about him. At that point, sensing what was coming, Shikamaru had tried to discourage her, but Ino had promptly spent the rest of their lunch hour telling him, quite literally, _everything _about what felt like _every _shinobi in Konoha.

He now knew, among other things - such as personality quirks, and "emotional baggage" regarding parent and sibling and teammate issues - the sordid, detailed romantic entanglements of everybody in the village. There had been one story of particular interest, about how Naruto and Hinata Hyuga, the heiress to the Hyuga clan, had been secretly seeing one another ever since Hinata had comforted him after Sakura's disappearance. There were only a few people who were privy to the secret - Kakashi, Sakura, and Team Ten. Ino had stressed to him that it was of utmost importance that Hinata's teammates and the members of her clan _not _find out yet. _It's always funny, watching Naruto trying to keep secrets from Neji, _Shikamaru had divulged then. _Actually, it's kind of funny watching anybody try to keep secrets from Neji. He's almost as bad as Kakashi-sensei. It's something about the eyes. _

A light breeze stirred Ichiraku's white curtains, and Itachi looked around the group, feeling a sense of fullness and contentment that he was unaccustomed to - but even now, there was a stirring of sorrow mixed in as well. There was only one way his happiness could be truly complete. Someday, would Sasuke be sitting amongst them, sharing in the same sense of easy camaraderie? Would he ever get a chance to spend time with Sasuke as he had with Naruto - to train with him or eat with him or hear him talk about falling in love? If _he _had been accepted, surely Sasuke would be as well…Kakashi and Naruto still cared deeply for him, after all. It would make him so happy to see Sasuke here, among friends, who he trusted and cared for, and who loved him in return.

Itachi was jolted out of his reverie when Naruto elbowed him in the ribs, grinning. "So, what about you?"

Itachi blinked, startled. For some reason, everybody was staring at him expectantly. "What?" he asked, slightly confused. "I apologize, I wasn't…"

"Shikamaru has Temari, Kakashi-sensei is seeing Yuugao, Chouji is dating Jin, the baker's daughter, Neji's still in denial about Tenten…" Naruto explained, conveniently leaving himself out.

"I am not _in denial,_" Neji started to argue.

Shikamaru rolled his eyes, obviously having heard this argument before. "What Naruto was trying to say is - has anybody caught _your _eye, Uchiha? You've been here for over a month."

It suddenly felt all too warm in the restaurant. Neji and Naruto immediately ceased their squabbling, and even Kakashi leaned forward, looking interested. Now, Itachi knew that Kakashi and Naruto were just as fond of him as he was of them, and he never liked to _lie, _but he briefly contemplated their reaction if he told them the truth. Even considering everything else he had experienced in life, the mental image was a slightly frightening one.

His mind made up, Itachi shook his head minutely. "…No."

They all stared at him for a moment. "Lie," Kakashi announced flatly. "Really, Uchiha. You might have been able to pull off the largest deceit in the village's history, but when it comes to the little things…I've seen genin do better."

"I am not lying," Itachi tried to protest, but it was no use.

Shikamaru stared at him, puzzled. "Is it somebody who works in Hokage Tower?"

"No, it isn't, I don't—"

"Or a field kunoichi?" Kakashi cut in, blind to Itachi's offended glare.

"Perhaps a civilian?" Neji suggested doubtfully.

"We'll be guessing all night!" Naruto complained. "Rank? Hair color? At least help us narrow it down!"

Itachi's eyes narrowed slightly as he answered each of the questions with a mutinous silence, making it clear that they would get no information from him.

"Fine, fine," Kakashi said at least, cutting off the discussion amongst Naruto, Shikamaru, and Neji, and holding his hands up placatingly. "You don't have to tell us who she is. But—"

"Does she know?" Naruto asked excitedly.

Itachi had to think about it for a minute. Finally, he shrugged one shoulder noncommittally. Shikamaru sent him a look that clearly lumped him in the same category as Neji - who was uniformly considered the most frustrating person in the group. "Are you going to do anything, or are you waiting for her to come to you?" He yawned, taking another sip of his sake. "I understand if you want to wait. Making the first move can be troublesome, depending on the woman in question."

Kakashi shook his head, looking as serious as if they were discussing military tactics. "I disagree. You can't afford to be lazy when it comes to this. You see, the female-to-male ratio is slightly uneven in Konoha. If you wait too long, you risk losing her to another man." He paused for dramatic effect. "And again, it depends on the woman, but not all of them are willing to make the first move. Especially considering that you're a…newcomer to the village."

"All of this applies to you too, Neji," Shikamaru added quickly. "I told you I saw that ANBU guy flirting with Tenten a couple of days ago."

While Itachi was still digesting the onslaught of unsought information and advice, unused to the novel experience, Naruto gave him a playful punch on the shoulder and his most winning smile. "Now, of course, if you told us who your intended lady is, we could give you more helpful and specialized advice!"

_More likely, attempt to bludgeon me into a comatose state, using all the available furniture and your ramen bowls, _Itachi thought dryly. He poked Naruto in the forehead with a slightly chakra-laden finger. "I don't think so."

While Naruto pouted, rubbing his forehead, Neji frowned thoughtfully. "But you are going to do something?"

"He doesn't want to feel like the only stick in the mud here, you see," Shikamaru explained, in an undertone.

Itachi exhaled slowly, the memory of Kakashi's words coming back to him. _If you wait too long, you risk losing her to another man. _It was startling that it hadn't happened already, in the year that had passed before he and Sakura had seen each other again. His stomach had given an unpleasant lurch when Ino had briefly mentioned Sakura's name in connection with a certain special jounin - but she had just as quickly said that as far as she knew, nothing serious had developed from that one date, and the two of them hadn't seen each other again.

What Kakashi said was true, though. Sakura was beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, spirited… She was a joy to be around, quite popular and well-liked amongst the people of the village, and it was only a matter of time before another ambitious young jounin expressed interest in her. This was a very different dynamic and setting than the one that had been in play when the two of them had first met - when it had essentially _just _been the two of them, in an extremely insulated setting, free from any outside influences.

Perhaps it would be necessary to act sooner than he had planned. If he asked Sakura out to dinner, he didn't think that she would refuse - and then, he would have to take the opportunity to court her, just as he had before, and ascertain whether the date triggered some spark of the romantic feelings that Sakura once had for him. In many ways, it wasn't a perfect or even ideal plan, but it was the best option at the moment.

Itachi sighed, relenting. "Yes," he acknowledged at last. "I will make my intentions clear to her. But only after we return from the mission to find Madara and Sasuke, and after Sasuke is settled back in the village."

To their credit, none of them expressed the slightest doubt that it could be done. "Awesome!" Naruto cheered, beaming. "You'll have to introduce her to us sometime then, okay?"

"Of course," Itachi replied neutrally. The conversation immediately shifted to the necessity of Neji doing the same, and he exhaled slowly, looking out of the restaurant and into the night beyond. Three days. It would be three days until they could leave for their mission - which could take weeks to complete - and then everything, hopefully, would finally fall into place. Madara would be dead, Sasuke returned to the village and uneventfully established as a peaceful citizen…and he could get his chance at a fresh start with Sakura.

…If everything went as planned. Itachi tried to avoid thinking about it at length, as did all of his teammates, but the mission would be a perilous one, perhaps the most high-risk that any of them had ever experienced. They were all going to confront the most powerful and dangerous shinobi that had ever lived. There were a million things that could go wrong, placing Sasuke, Naruto, Kakashi, Neji, Yamato, and Team Eight at serious risk of losing their lives. And Sakura, of course. The thought made his chest constrict. And himself, as well. If something happened to him on this mission, which was a very real possibility, he at least wanted to be able to die knowing that—

He wouldn't mention it to his friends, Itachi decided then, with uncharacteristic, almost reckless, abruptness. But maybe he wouldn't wait until they returned from the mission after all.

* * *

Breathe in…out. In…out.

Each inhalation and exhalation measured exactly three seconds, as long as it took to say "Shikamaru." Shikamaru-seconds were a unit of time Sakura and Ino had invented as children, to deter the other kids they played with from counting way too fast when they played hide and seek. She still remembered how Ino would patiently explain to the others the proper technique, her hands on her hips and a fierce look on her small face. _You say, "one-Shikamaru, two-Shikamaru, three-Shikamaru," all the way until you get to twenty. This way you can't cheat!" _More than ten years later, this method still came in handy. It was elementary, really, but counting was still the best way she could keep her focus and her chakra output steady during a healing like this.

Sakura watched the stream of chakra flowing from her hands into the patient's body unblinkingly. Everything was going as expected; her chakra immediately targeted the holes and lesions in the patient's stomach. Frowning with concentration, she began to slowly move her hands, beginning the next part of the healing. This was a jounin who had been taken captive briefly during a mission. As part of an interrogation attempt, his captors had laced his limited rations with a clear, tasteless poison that literally ate away at the stomach, causing tremendous, excruciating pain. Regardless, the jounin had still managed to escape and neutralize his former captives. There was a reason why Konoha shinobi had a reputation as some of the toughest and most resilient in the world.

As the minutes wore on, through the thick green veil of her chakra, Sakura could see the holes in his stomach beginning to mend, and the lesions vanishing. She gritted her teeth, continuing the steady, repetitive motions. This was her second surgery of the day, and her chakra reserves were feeling the strain. Nevertheless, by the time another twenty minutes had passed, she was thoroughly satisfied at the sight of the jounin's whole, healthy stomach. She pulled back, exhaling briefly, feeling the sweat on the back of her neck, underneath her ponytail. "Sutures, please," she requested, and the attendant nurse immediately pressed the necessary equipment into her hand.

Sakura closed the long incision with neat, precise stitches. Tomorrow, Shizune would seal the incision with chakra, as per standard operating procedure, so for now, this would be sufficient. From there, things moved quickly, and only once the patient had been checked, deemed stable, and transported to post-op, did the pink-haired kunoichi finally sit down, breathing a sigh of relief. She was more exhausted than she usually was after a shift at the hospital - two relatively major surgeries in one morning was rare. By chance, she glanced at the clock in the corner of the room while stretching her neck, and then leapt up, startled. She was supposed to meet Ino and Tenten for lunch in about - oh, five minutes.

Sakura changed and washed up as quickly as she could, her mind a whirlwind of activity as she hurriedly left the hospital. Between a hectic schedule of high-ranked missions and her usual medical work, almost every day had been like this in the month and a half since she and Itachi returned to Konoha; it was the busiest she had been since preparing for the jounin exams, so long ago. Her days flew by in a blur of activity, from sunrise to sunset. It felt like just a week since the two of them had come back to Konoha, and she had been surprised when Naruto mentioned, the last time they had seen one another, that it had been a little over a month since Itachi had informed Tsunade-shishou as to Madara and Sasuke's suspected whereabouts, so it was _about time _that they were finally leaving on their mission. His excitement and anticipation had been tangible, and she felt the same way.

She was also glad that Itachi was settling down well in Konoha; he was obviously happy to finally be back in the home he had loved so deeply. While a lot of shinobi were still either intimidated by or wary of him, he still had a small group of friends - who were, coincidentally enough, her closest male friends as well. There was Naruto and Kakashi-sensei, obviously, and Chouji, Shikamaru and Neji had been teammates of hers in the past as well. She was probably biased when she thought that they were they best friends that Itachi could have…even though they could be obnoxiously loud when they gathered in Itachi's apartment every Saturday night for shogi tournaments.

Sakura sighed, quickening her pace a little. The restaurant Ino had insisted upon was on the other side of the village entirely. Even now, when there was nobody else she knew in the immediate vicinity, the memory of how Itachi got his living arrangements still made her blush.

It was all because Tsunade-shishou knew her much too well. After taking one look at the two of them on the morning she had brought Itachi back, the Hokage had subtly raised one eyebrow in her direction, the question obvious. Sakura shook her head minutely, her face turning the color of her hair, and Tsunade just tapped her fingers on her desk thoughtfully. Later, once their meeting was at an end, she gave Itachi a speech about how glad they were to have him back - and as a token of the village's appreciation, she offered him a set of keys to the apartment right across the hall from Sakura's own, in the same luxury complex. _Sakura will show you where it is, _Tsunade explained blithely. _There's no need to worry about rent._

After Itachi had thanked her and turned away momentarily, the Hokage sent an unbearably smug look in her speechless apprentice's direction. Tsunade had obviously thought she was doing her a favor - but it was quite the opposite, actually. These living arrangements were not at all conducive to her, "_must get over Itachi,_" goal…especially when he did nice things like walk with her and lift her groceries up the stairs when they ran into each other after getting off work, or letting her borrow laundry detergent when she ran out. After she thanked him, he would always just give her this look that never failed to make her melt. _I'm always here if you need anything, Sakura. _

The restaurant finally came into view, and Sakura put the thoughts out of her mind with some effort, as she approached the patio. Tenten sat at one of the tables, looking stylish and elegant in her sleek black ANBU uniform; she greeted her with a cheerful smile, and waved aside her apologies for being late. "It's no problem, I figured that you got caught up in something, and I've only been here for a few minutes anyway. You still wanted to try that tropical sushi roll, right?"

Sakura slid into the nearest chair, her entire body going limp with gratitude for the respite. She hadn't sat down for more than a minute since eating breakfast at six in the morning, and her stomach gave an audible, frighteningly loud growl. "Yes, that sounds _so good _right now," she sighed longingly.

Tenten grinned, taking a sip of her water. "Good, because I ordered it for you." She gave her friend a sympathetic look. "Long day?"

Sakura caught sight of her unusually pale pallor in the reflection of Tenten's glass and grimaced. "Yeah - two surgeries, and I have more healing sessions to do when I get back. It's relatively minor work, but still, on top of the mission earlier this week…"

"Try ordering some ginseng tea?" Tenten suggested. "Gai-sensei swears that it's the best for elevating chakra levels. And tell me that you're taking the next couple of days off before you leave for the mission."

"I am, thankfully." Not for the first time, Sakura felt a stirring of anxiety inside her. "It'll be enough to get me to one hundred percent again. This is too high-stakes for all of us _not _to be. How's Neji doing, by the way?"

"He and Lee are on a meditation retreat today in the mountains. We always used to go before big missions, ever since we were genin, but I'm teaching the new recruits some of my scroll summoning techniques this afternoon."

Sakura had just opened her mouth to reply when Ino materialized on the patio, accompanied by a large puff of smoke, and looking highly stressed. "Sorry I'm so late!" she apologized, collapsing into the last remaining chair and fanning herself, obviously aggravated. "Suzuki tried a new interrogation technique on that yakuza agent, and it ended up being an absolute disaster…"

As usual, the three of them talked nonstop until their food arrived, and through almost the entire lunch. They were all nearly done with their sushi rolls when Ino dropped her chopsticks, doing the excited flailing hand motion that always accompanied the delivery of big news. "Oh! I can't believe I forgot to tell you! You both sidetracked me with all those questions—"

"What is it?" Sakura asked curiously.

Ino practically preened, obviously proud of her accomplishment. "Well, I ran into Shikamaru today - and let's just say that I have it on good authority that Neji is finally going to ask Tenten here on a date after he gets back from the mission to find Sasuke!"

Tenten choked on her drink, her eyes going as wide as saucers. Sakura laughed, giving her a playful nudge. "Congratulations!"

"I know," Ino beamed. "So exciting!"

Tenten set her glass down, an absolutely stunned expression on her face. "No way," she replied slowly. "For years, it's been that he doesn't want to ruin our friendship by admitting any feelings for me - Gai-sensei and Lee _both _said so. What changed?"

Sakura nodded in agreement, knowing Ino would have the details to spill. She stirred her drink, obviously thinking it over. "Well…I know you two are trustworthy, so there's no harm in telling you." The blonde kunoichi finally shrugged, leaning closer. "The guys have been trying to get Neji to make a move for ages, but apparently, he was finally influenced into doing so by the unlikeliest of sources." Ino paused, savoring the suspense, and taking in the expressions on their faces. "…Itachi."

Sakura blinked, uncertain that she had heard her friend properly. Tenten looked equally confused. "_What?" _

"Yeah, I know," Ino smirked, sipping her chilled plum tea from its outrageously pink bendy straw. "So, the story goes…last night, the guys were all talking about the kunoichi that they're with, and Kakashi and Naruto got Itachi to admit that he's interested in some girl. He agreed to ask her out once he gets back from the mission, and Neji figured that if _Itachi _could do it, then _he _could be brave enough to ask out his teammate and best friend of the past seven years. Shikamaru gave him a little push too; he told him about the ANBU guy who was flirting with you a couple of days ago. Now, is this the best news or _what_?"

The rice and coconut tempura shrimp in Sakura's mouth felt like it had turned into a hard lump of ash, and her stomach tried to rebel when she forced herself to swallow over her dry throat. Shock made her feel numb from the inside out; she tried to rest her chopsticks down as calmly and naturally as she could, before they fell from her fingers. Ino's words literally left her reeling, and she felt sick all of a sudden. It was like the world was spinning. _Snap out of it, _she ordered herself sharply. _Calm down._

It was difficult but doable, and again, Tenten asked the question that was on Sakura's mind. "Well, then," she said, shaking her head in amazement. "I figure that I should write Itachi a thank-you letter, or something! So, who is this mystery girl that he's interested in?"

Ino shrugged, bemused. "I have no idea. Itachi point-blank refused to reveal any information to them. Even Shikamaru and Naruto have no clue. They've been guessing, but no luck. I'm sure we'll all know after the mission, anyway."

Tenten nodded, finishing off her last sushi roll. "Well, in any case, good luck to them."

Sakura made herself echo the sentiment along with Ino, and thankfully the conversation drifted to another topic. It wasn't long before their lunch break ended and all of them regretfully went their separate ways, back to work.

It was the first time Sakura had ever been glad that she and Ino couldn't walk back in the direction of Hokage Tower and the hospital together. She didn't think she could keep up the facade any longer. She hadn't felt shock like this since Kisame had so unexpectedly told her that, contrary to what she had believed for so long, Itachi was alive. And before that, when she had found out the truth behind what happened to the Uchiha clan, and before _that_, when she had first returned to Konoha and Tsunade told her the truth about who she was, _what _she was…and the "truth" about Itachi and Kisame's true nature.

All the breath left Sakura's body in a short, bitter sigh, and it felt like she barely had enough energy to draw breath again. On days like this, lunches with her friends provided a respite necessary for her to get through the rest of the day. But today, the news that Ino had delivered had hit her like a punch. Like that time, during the second chunin exams in the Forest of Death, when she had gotten into a tangle with a Rock-nin who had slammed his fist into her stomach while wearing iron knuckles. She had fallen to the ground, her vision going black out of sheer agony, and in a fit of frightening, uncharacteristic rage, she had lunged forward, grabbed his ankle, and snapped the bone.

She had been angry then, but now, as Ino's words - _he's interested in some girl, he's going to ask her out once he gets back from the mission - _echoed mercilessly in her ears, with every step she took toward the hospital and up to the examination room, Sakura's heart just felt heavier and heavier. It was a sorrow that made her just want to sit down where she stood and bury her face in her hands and not get up for hours, as pathetic as it made her sound. She had become intimately familiar with this particular feeling ever since she returned to Konoha, with all the emotional fallout that followed. She'd spent more time in a state of depression that she was comfortable admitting to herself. It was strange, since she had always been such a happy, well-adjusted child and teenager - but then, it had all started after she had received that fateful mission to Cloud. When she looked back over the events of the past almost-two years, it seemed clear that meeting Itachi and falling in love with him had brought her just as much pain and anguish as it had joy. Maybe more.

It was a struggle to keep the emotions at bay, and Sakura paused outside of the door to the examination room for several moments, fighting to regain her composure before stepping inside. She worked on autopilot for the rest of the day. They were all procedures that she had done a hundred times before, enough that her hands and chakra seemed to move independently of her body; of their own accord, even though most of her mind - despite her best efforts - was otherwise occupied.

The hours seemed to simultaneously crawl by and move in the blink of an eye, and before she knew it, the light filtering in through the window had dimmed considerably. The few rays that remained were the unmistakable color of late sunset. Minutes after her last patient had left, Sakura leaned against the examination table wearily, burying her face in her hands out of sheer fatigue. All the emotional and physical exhaustion of the past day caught up with her at once, making her feel utterly overwhelmed. Her chakra reserves were nearly depleted and her eyelids were heavy, and the hours that passed hadn't alleviated the dull ache in her chest one bit.

It took a long time for her to summon the resolve to move, leave the examination room, and begin the long walk back home. Sakura glanced up at the sky, noting the position of the setting sun, and for the first time, she hoped she wouldn't run into Itachi on the way up to her apartment. He got off work at the same time she did; it had happened before. _Get a grip, _Inner Sakura advised her, not unkindly for once. _You're going to be leaving on a mission with him in a couple of days, and you _cannot _allow yourself to be unfocused or distracted by his presence when the time comes._

Sakura closed her eyes briefly. She wouldn't be. She was a professional kunoichi, a jounin, and she would never let personal issues compromise her ability to perform on a mission. By the time they left, she would have had time to become accustomed to the idea; to accept it, even. It was just that now…it was too new. Too raw. Seeing Itachi now would be too much. She just needed to be alone for a while, to process…

A thought crossed her mind suddenly, making her flinch. It actually wasn't a thought so much as it was a scenario; a glimpse into the not-so-distant future - of her leaving her apartment some evening, and running into Itachi and "mystery girl" entering his. Or worse yet, seeing her leave his place in the morning—

Sakura actually stopped for a moment, startled by her visceral reaction to the thought. She literally felt sick to her stomach; there was cold sweat on her back and what felt like a sob or a scream trapped in her throat. She quickened her pace, anxious to get home before accidentally running across someone she knew. Ichiraku's was right across the street, and this was Naruto's dinnertime. She shied away from thinking about it again, because it had hurt so badly the first time, but it was obvious why it - the idea of another girl having the experiences with Itachi that _she _had - disturbed her so much. Nobody wanted to think about being replaced. Especially when they were still in love with the person who was moving on.

_You knew this would happen, anyway, _Inner Sakura pointed out sensibly. _You even thought about it on the night that we brought Itachi back. _

And she had tried to be so mature about it, too. But it was different when it was actually happening, and so soon—

_It's been about one year since you and Itachi were last together, though, _her inner self spoke up again. _What did you expect?_

It was true. She had expected this, known it would happen…but in a rather abstract way. Faced with the concrete realities, though, dealing with it wasn't nearly as simple as she thought it would be.

Sakura entered her darkened apartment and flipped the lights on tiredly. She hadn't been quite so conscious of how empty and lonely it was in a very long time. The contrast seemed especially sharp now, considering that Itachi, her only neighbor on this floor, would soon have somebody to share the luxurious space with (_somebody to cook dinner with, cuddle up on the sofa eating and talking and reading and watching television with, somebody to curl up in bed with—)_

As Sakura reheated the rice and curry chicken she had made for herself the previous night, her hands trembling somewhat, she seriously considered finding a new place to live. Somewhere smaller and cozier (and farther away), and maybe she could even ask Ino if she would consider being roommates.

Despite the need to replenish her chakra, Sakura couldn't do more than take a few halfhearted bites of her food. Her appetite was nonexistent, and even the normally mouth-watering smell of the curry wasn't doing anything to revive it. Halfway through her sixth spoonful, she couldn't force her tears back any longer. Abandoning any attempt at eating, she set the bowl down on the floor, huddled up on the sofa, and cried, overwhelmed with memories of her and Itachi together, from the beginning to the end, and now. It was better to get it all out now, she figured. By the time she woke up tomorrow, the mourning period would be over.

It took about half an hour for all her tears to be exhausted, and that was probably because she had reached the threshold where she was too physically and emotionally depleted even to cry. After wiping the last tears away from her eyes and face with the sofa cushion, Sakura finally managed to drag herself upright and back to the fridge to put her food away. As she got ready for bed, she aggressively resolved to move on as soon as she got back from the mission. For real, this time - no more procrastination. She would contact Soichiro, the special jounin who she had gone on that one date with, again, and she would finally give Ino permission to enter Matchmaker Mode - which she had been begging to do for months now. She _would _move on and she _would _find happiness with somebody else.

Even though the thoughts brought Sakura some comfort, it still took over an hour of restless tossing and turning for her to fall into a fragmented, disturbed sleep. It felt like she had been asleep for all of ten minutes, when she jerked awake, disoriented. At first she wasn't sure whether the loud crash that she had heard - or thought she'd heard - was just an auditory hallucination triggered by entry into the sleep state, or—

But then it happened again, the distant sound deafening in the still air, and it was accompanied by an impact that shook the foundations of the apartment to the core, making her floor and walls and ceiling tremble like a leaf. From the street outside, there was a piercing scream.

Nearly blinded by sleep and confusion, Sakura hurriedly disentangled herself from the covers and stumbled out of bed as fast as she could, bumping her hip hard against the nightstand as she did so. What was going on? Konoha had experienced earthquakes before, but they had been very minor tremors, nothing like this—

The aching muscles in her back and neck had already gone stiff with foreboding by the time she made it to the window. She squinted in the dark, shoved the curtains aside, and pulled the blinds up with a short, sharp yank…

And froze in horror unlike anything she had ever experienced before. The scene before her was like something out of a nightmare; so terrible that she couldn't even take in all of it at once.

The massive West Gate of Konoha had literally collapsed in on itself. A good fourth of the village, from what she could see, was engulfed in flames. People were running out into the streets in panic. To the east, there was a terrifyingly familiar silhouette faintly visible, near what had been the gate…three massive snakes, towering over forty feet tall, their heads looming into the night. And to the west, among the fire…

Sakura turned her head slowly, nearly immobilized with dread. She knew what she would see, but that didn't make her any more prepared for it. It was something she had only ever seen in history books, and those images had been horrific enough. Now, though, she could see that they didn't do it justice.

Her uncle, her father's older brother, had been killed during the Nine-Tails' attack on Konoha eighteen years ago. She had only been a few months old at the time, and so didn't know him at all, save for the pictures her father had shown her. It had been years since the last time, and yet, her uncle was all that she could think of, as Sakura watched the unleashed Eight-Tailed demon open its mouth and breathe another torrent of flame out on the village, accompanied by an unearthly roar that made the floor shake.

Sakura fell back from the window, a choked, terrified sob escaping her throat. It wasn't just the sight of the tailed beast, but the full weight of the realization that hit her at that moment – even through the window, she could feel it. She would never forget her first encounter with that chakra, in the base in Cloud, when she had been completely unaware… Such an oppressive, dark, evil chakra could only belong to one shinobi. Madara Uchiha and Sasuke were mounting their attack on Konoha _now. _Her head span mercilessly, as she watched the demon, reaching a hand out to the wall to steady herself. _Tsunade-shishou, Shizune and Genma, Kakashi-sensei, Naruto, Ino, Shikamaru, Chouji, Tenten…_all the names and faces of everybody she knew in Konoha - her comrades, her teammates, her friends…flashed before her eyes in a dizzying parade. And all the innocent civilians - how many people, _beloved _people, would be lost tonight, like her uncle had been? The last time a tailed demon had attacked Konoha, the fatalities had been enormous—

_Now is not the time to be afraid! _Inner Sakura snapped at her. _Move!_

Sakura grabbed her discarded clothes and got dressed as quickly as she could, pulling on her shorts, buckling her skirt, and zipping up her vest and boots with hands that trembled. As the thoughts raced through her head at a mile a minute, it was all she could do not to panic. It was late at night, when the village was most vulnerable, the shinobi and the civilian sector alike. There were rapid-response disaster task forces in the village, and she was sure that ANBU was already out there, tackling the massive inferno with high-powered water jutsu…but still, there was only so much they could do, and…

Sakura's heart plummeted, her hands growing clammy with cold sweat as she hastily armored herself with all the weapons she could hold. The hospital. It was easily within range of the Eight-Tails' fire, and it was perhaps the most vulnerable location in Konoha…there were patients in their beds… She looked down at her hands uneasily. She was getting ready to engage in a critical combat situation, where she would likely have to attack, defend, and heal…and her chakra reserves weren't even half full. This couldn't have happened at a worse time.

She shook her head resolutely, yanking open a drawer and pulling on the chakra-enhancing gloves that Kakashi had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Everybody was always complimenting her on her massive chakra reserves. She would push herself as hard as she could, and make the best of what little she had. If she had to drain every last drop of her chakra, she would do it. She would defend her home and her fellow shinobi until her last breath if necessary, no matter what she faced out there.

With that thought foremost in her mind, Sakura flung her window open and jumped out into the fray.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Hello again, everybody! I am so sorry for the long wait. Outlining and writing this and the next part of the story took me much longer than I expected. As you might have noticed, though, I've uploaded the next chapter as well. Originally, Chapter 18 and 19 were all supposed to be one extra-long chapter 18…but then I realized that the word count totaled about 20,000 words. After writing the entire thing, I split it into two parts to make it more manageable and hopefully, more enjoyable to read.

There are a few things I want to note about this chapter. A couple of you have mentioned recent revelations in the manga about Madara's identity and other things. I don't actually read the Naruto manga, I never have, and I haven't watched the anime in years. I keep on top of general plot developments by reading character or manga arc summaries on the Naruto Wiki. In addition, I came up with the concept for and outlined this story from beginning to end in December 2010 and January 2011. I have not taken into consideration _any _events that have happened in the manga or anime after that point. This story went AU after Sakura got back from the mission to rescue Gaara in Sand.

On a similar note, throughout this chapter and the next one, I realize that there may be some inconsistencies between my/Madara's choice to use the Eight-Tails as a tool to wreak havoc in Konoha, as a sort of weapon of mass destruction – and stuff that has been discussed or explained in the manga. Some facts about the Eight-Tails and tailed demons in general may not line up as well.

This story, and all of my others, primarily focuses on the relationship between Itachi and Sakura. Characterization and building a fascinating, dramatic narrative are my priority – and I know that I'm definitely not perfect at that, either. I'll admit that factual details about the Naruto universe, like the whole demon thing and any recent events that unfold in the manga, take a huge backseat to that. But this is how I enjoy writing, and I hope you enjoy reading it as well. It's just definitely an alternate universe fic, where I've changed certain things, and chosen to take others not into account.

Any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	19. The Attack, Part II

_As always, thank you so much to everybody who was considerate enough to leave a review. :)_

* * *

_Chapter Nineteen: The Attack, Part II_

* * *

The night air was thick with smoke, which obscured Sakura's vision even more and made her eyes sting as she looked around the street rapidly, trying to get a grip on the situation and accurately assess its dangers. The tailed demon and the three snake summons were loose, and all of them were instruments of tremendous destruction. And then there were Madara and Sasuke themselves. Their location was unknown. Were they in the village, engaging in combat, as Orochimaru had during his attack on the village during the chunin exams? The thought made her stomach clench up with apprehension. Or were they watching from a distance, for now, letting the demon and the snake summons do their work for them? It was also unclear whether they had any rogue enemy fighting forces on their side, who had made their way into the village as well. That would complicate the situation even further.

It only took a moment of hesitation and indecision before she remembered what Iruka-sensei would always tell her class in the Academy about disaster response protocol. The first thing they had to do after determining the threat was evacuate the civilians. The area that the Eight-tails had set ablaze, where it was currently rampaging…that was the part of the village where the Hokage, the Council of Elders, and other politically significant members of the village lived - and there were also a lot of civilian homes there, on the outskirts of the blaze.

Quelling the tingle of fear that traveled down her spine, Sakura ran straight toward the fire, dodging the people who were running in the other direction, making their way to their teammates or superiors to await orders. She could her more and more shouts and screams coming from the center of the village; the ground shook beneath her feet, and the air was heavy with chakra. She had to fight the worry that was rising within her chest like bile. Where was Naruto? Tsunade-shishou? If this was one of the nights where the Hokage hadn't stayed in her office to work late, if she had gone home…It didn't bear thinking about.

She was in her own village, the home where she had grown up, and yet Sakura had never felt so afraid, isolated, and alone - not even when she had been left battered and bleeding to death in the woods outside the Village Hidden in the Clouds, so long ago.

Sakura stopped dead, trying to get a fix on her surroundings. She was at the outskirts of the blaze now, just outside the civilian neighborhood. The smoke impeded her vision even more here, making her cough, and the air was alive with the sound and smell and heat of the inferno. And when she looked to the right, she could see the terrifyingly massive shadow of the demon, moving along the flames not far from here, and she felt her stomach turn over. They had maybe ten minutes before the beast was upon them, if that.

She saw movement behind the window of the nearest house and dashed toward it, and she hadn't even knocked when the door flew open. A young woman, white-faced with fear, pulled her inside, before slamming the door shut. The house was darkened, and her husband paced through the living room, trying to comfort the two small children who clung to him, whimpering anxiously.

"What's going on?" the woman asked in an undertone. Her voice shook and her hands were cold, where they gripped Sakura's. "My husband said that it was probably an accident or a drill, and that we should take the children and run to Hokage Tower, but I…I saw something out there, just like the stories my parents used to tell me about the Nine-Tailed Fox, but it _can't _be—"

Sakura squeezed the woman's hand reassuringly, trying to keep her own tone as calm as possible. "This wasn't an accident or a drill. The village is under attack, and you need to evacuate, but not to Hokage Tower. Do you know how to get to Nara Forest from here?"

The woman nodded, her eyes filling up with tears as she looked back at her children. "But we can't possibly leave the house, not with that _thing _out there, we'll be killed—"

"You will be no safer in here, it's coming this way," Sakura said grimly. "If you leave right now you should be able to make it to the forest in time. Take the back roads, stay out of sight, and go as fast as you can. Once you enter the forest, keep going until you get to the clearing past the third watch tower, and wait for me and the other evacuees there. Cover the children's noses and mouths loosely to protect them from the smoke, all right?"

The woman nodded, grabbing two small blankets from the sofa, and Sakura fled to the next home - and the next, and the next. Sometimes she had to break down the door to get inside; several people had barricaded themselves in the house and hidden, believing the village had been attacked by enemy shinobi. The pink-haired kunoichi delivered the same quick message and instructions over and over again, trembling on the inside, hoping fervently that each person from the previous house she had visited had made it to the depths of the forest safely. Most of them initially flat-out refused to go, believing it was suicide to step out onto the streets where the monster was rampaging, but she had insisted that it was the only chance they had. Still, though, there was tremendous risk…and she had made her best guess about where the safest place was to send them, as well. She didn't _think _the beast would continue as far as the forest; he would more likely make his way to the center of the village instead, but still, there was no way to know for sure—

When Sakura finished with the last street and dashed outside, performing a last-minute check of the vicinity to see if she had missed any houses, she choked on the smoke that filled the air and made her eyes burn and water. The fire had spread, consuming the empty homes that residents had escaped a few minutes ago, and the heat scorched every inch of exposed skin on her body. She couldn't see anything through the black smoke, but she could _feel _the nearness of the demon, and she turned and ran faster than she ever had before, seeking the escape of Nara Forest. She expected, at any moment, to feel the searing flame of the demon's breath on her back; to know that it was the end, just like her uncle must have…but there was nothing, nothing _yet, _at least. She was halfway to the forest when she collided with a pair of evacuees she had sent out earlier - an elderly couple who couldn't run, and who were coughing convulsively because of the smoke. Her body resisted the expenditure of chakra, but she lifted the old lady into her arms, caught the man by the hand, and carried them with her until they reached the forest.

The darkness, relative quiet, and cool, clean air was a blissful reprieve, and Sakura breathed a sigh of relief as she glanced around the clearing past the third watch tower, carefully taking note of every man, woman, and child. They sat on the ground, huddled in the dirt or on fallen tree trunks or boulders, or paced restlessly. Several had agitated pets cradled in their arms or on the ends of leashes. Most of the children and more than a few adults were crying, and all of them had their eyes fixed on the flames in the distance. But regardless of the emotional trauma, all of her evacuees had made it here safely, and Sakura had just opened her mouth to ask how they were all doing and if anybody was experiencing symptoms of smoke inhalation, when she was cut off by a faint yell in the distance.

"Sakura! Is that you?"

Sakura turned sharply, her heart skipping a beat out of surprise. She recognized that voice…but it sounded wrong, somehow. She spared a moment to pull out her emergency summoning scroll and dispense water rations to her evacuees, before heading in the direction of the voice. "Moegi?" she called cautiously. "Konohamaru? Udon?"

"Here," Moegi responded, her voice even weaker than before.

Sakura turned a corner, coming face-to-face with them, and she was unable to suppress a gasp at the sight before her. The chunin team also led a group of evacuees - although they were in much worse condition. Several of them had been badly burned, and were being carried by the others. The rest of the group was covered in cuts, gashes, and bruises, or nursed broken bones. The three younger shinobi looked utterly battered as well - covered in minor burns and limping.

"We managed to get them out from the center," Konohamaru said hoarsely, while Udon nodded. His voice had the same rasp as Moegi's; both of them had inhaled smoke and burned their throats. "Right where the demon was at." He swallowed, blinking hard, but his entire face crumpled, and tears spilled down his cheeks. "But we lost half of our group on the way here. It just _breathed _in our direction, and…"

Sakura murmured a reassurance, while taking everybody in with wide eyes, cataloguing every injury she saw in terms of severity. There were burns, third degree to first degree. Contusions, broken bones, open wounds caused from fleeing collapsing houses. There was a man in the back cradling a limp, motionless toddler, trying to get her to respond. When he felt Sakura's eyes on him, he looked up, his gaze filled with black despair. "Her nursery filled up with smoke," he mumbled, barely coherent from the effort it took to hold the tears back. "By the time I got away from the fire in my room…"

Sakura swallowed over her dry throat, before tilting her head, indicating for them to follow her to the clearing. Within minutes, everybody was settled on the forest floor in neat rows, arranged from the least severe wounds to the most. Moegi, Konohamaru, and Udon, as well as a few civilians with medical experience, immediately began tending to the people they could help, leaving the rest - the badly burned, the unconscious from smoke inhalation, and the motionless toddler with the father who knelt at her side, weeping - to her.

It was unlike anything she had ever seen before - it was like being in a war zone, like the accounts she had read from medic-nin who had worked the field during the last shinobi world war. There was a man whose entire face, arms, and chest had been burnt by a fireball that tore through his house while he had been helping his father take his medication. The older man had perished instantly, but while Sakura worked to repair the damage, her patient tossed and turned and whimpered, delirious with pain, for his father. There was a girl no older than Sakura herself, who had all the skin on both of her arms burned off, and a boy who had undergone the same thing, except with his right leg. Then there was a male jounin who had half of his face seared off when the Eight-tails had attacked, while he and his team were helping Konohamaru's team evacuate the civilians. The jounin had lost consciousness - Udon had carried him to the woods - and when she was halfway through healing him, he woke up. There was a heartbreaking expression of panic on the unburnt half of his face, and his good eye welled up with tears as he reached for her arm. "My teammates," he gasped, his voice a barely audible rasp. "…Since we were genin. Twelve years old. _Gone._ Just one second. The fire…"

He kept repeating it, obviously in shock. Through the tears that clouded her vision, Sakura comforted him as best as she could, while finishing the healing and then gently putting him under again, to aid in the recuperation process. And then came the process of healing those who had suffered from smoke inhalation injuries. Half of her felt as numb as the boy who had no sensation in his burned legs because the damage had been so severe - and half of her wanted to scream until her voice broke, and give herself over to pure rage, and find Sasuke and Madara and burn _them _alive for the agony they had inflicted on so many innocents.

And she wanted to cry. Oh, god, she wanted to cry, for the people she was healing as much as herself. Somewhere in Konoha, while she tended to this group of injured, were her friends and loved ones burning, dying, like the jounin's teammates? Sakura saw bits and pieces of them in everybody she had healed, and it terrified her more than anything and made her want to weep; to call for the mother and father that had been missing for a year now. A girl with Ino's eyes, or Shizune's hair, or a green sweatshirt the same shade as Tsunade's jacket…even one who had been wearing the same sandals as Tenten. A boy with Naruto's hands, one with Shikamaru's eyebrows, another who had Chouji's chubby cheeks, a man with Kakashi's exact height and build…

The pressure building inside of her had reached a point where it was getting ready to explode. _Focus, _Inner Sakura counseled her calmly. _Do your duty. Do what Tsunade-shishou taught you to do. Make her proud._

Sakura inhaled and exhaled, and guided her chakra-covered hands upward, away from the toddler's nose and mouth and into the air, suctioning away yet another cloud of black smoke from her lungs. _Please, _she prayed, unconsciously echoing the girl's father. She had been able to save the others, but this child was so small—

At that precise moment, the girl opened her eyes and let out a small but strong cry, reaching for her father. Sakura had just enough time to notice that her eyes were a shade of gray just a little lighter than Itachi's, before the tears in her own eyes spilled over.

The girl's father cradled her, utterly overcome with emotion, and only after he had finished giving her his profuse thanks and left, trying to calm his daughter, the three chunin came to sit beside her. They looked as exhausted as she felt, and Sakura wiped her eyes, trying to regain her composure, before nodding towards the rows of people they had treated. "Thanks, guys," she managed. "You were great. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Udon shook his head earnestly. "We're glad we found _you. _A lot of them needed more help than we could give. Moegi said she could sense your chakra, so we led everyone here."

Sakura cast another glance in the direction of the village, the first she had taken since the new group of evacuees arrived. "It looks like the demon turned in the direction of Hokage Tower, he's definitely not headed toward here," she mused. "You guys should be safe here, and everybody's in stable condition. All of my emergency supplies are in the scroll in the middle of the clearing, in case anybody needs more water or burn salve. Do you three think you'll be all right here? I'll send backup if I run into anybody."

Konohamaru and Udon nodded, but Moegi looked alarmed. "You're going back in?"

She thought of Naruto, of Itachi, of Tsunade-shishou…and Madara and Sasuke…and she nodded grimly. "Of course."

After assuring them that she would be careful, Sakura moved quickly through the trees, heading out of the forest. All of her senses were on high alert, despite the utter exhaustion she felt. The beast was temporarily out of the vicinity, but the snakes were still loose…

The part of the village she re-entered was untouched by the fire, but utterly deserted; looking eerily similar to a ghost town. The majority of the activity she could sense was in the vicinity of Hokage Tower, miles away. From what she could see, there had been progress in fighting the fire, but in some places, the flames leaped as high into the sky as ever. The roaring of the demon and the sound of high-powered jutsu still echoed in the air, accompanied by the distant cacophony of shouts and screams. The air was charged with chakra, and with every cautious step she took away from the relative safety of Nara Forest, she noticed more and more cracks in the ground - indicative of the intensity of the fight that had been raging in the village for the past hour.

Sakura exhaled tersely, looking around in vain. What she needed to do right now was find her teammates and assist them in whatever they were doing. Her chest tightened with worry. Knowing them, it would be the most critical and dangerous role possible: trying to seal the demon, or confronting Madara and Sasuke singlehandedly… Their chakra signatures were as familiar to her as her own, and she could normally sense them from miles away - but tonight, everything was so chaotic that she couldn't sense much of anything. The otherworldly strength and malevolence of the Eight-tails' chakra was overwhelming. She closed her eyes for an instant, thinking it over. Instinct told her that Naruto, Kakashi, and Tsunade would be wherever the demon was, confronting it directly. Their only chance of protecting Konoha was to seal the beast - otherwise, it would raze the village to the ground within hours, and continue its path of destruction through the rest of the Fire Country. For the second time that night, Sakura marshaled her courage, and headed right in the direction all of her self-preservation instincts were screaming for her to avoid.

The closer she got to the center of the village, the worse things became. The streets were almost completely obscured by fallen trees and the rubble of collapsed buildings. Among them were ANBU and Jounin Headquarters, the Strict Correctional Facility, the aviary, the armory, and several commercial shops, Sakura noted, a sinking feeling in her stomach. _If this was just the damage suffered by one small section of Konoha_… In addition, somewhere, a massive water main had burst, and even the emergency power supply had been hit. The lights that normally illuminated the streets were out, and between the darkness and the smoke, the only light came from the distant flames. She could barely see her own hand in front of her face. Despite the devastated landscape, though, there was nowhere in the world that she knew better, and it wasn't long until she emerged from a side street into the road leading to the hospital. Sakura squinted, struggling to see in the gloom, and her knees almost gave out with relief when she saw that the hospital was still standing. It had its own internal, independent power supply as well, so the patients inside should be safe - but the people who worked the overnight shift were primarily medics, without the necessary combat experience to defend against an attack if necessary—

"Sakura!"

The hushed call jolted her out of her reverie, and the pink-haired kunoichi looked around sharply, before finally seeing the three figures who stood in the shadow of the side of the hospital. The jounin gestured to her urgently, obviously wanting her to move out from the open, and she joined them as fast as she could. "Are you—"

"Yes, the Hokage sent us to defend the hospital," the squad leader explained quickly. "She wanted you to be part of our squad, but Ichiro saw you heading to evacuate the civilians in the neighborhood near you. We figured you'd come by soon. So far everything has been relatively clear. No sign of enemy combatants on the ground, and that water main explosion put out the fire before it could get close enough to us to cause alarm. There was a scare half an hour ago when it looked like the demon was headed this way, but—"

"Wait," one of the other jounin said in a hushed voice, holding out his hand. "…Do you hear that?"

For several long moments, there was nothing. But then Sakura heard it, and the sound - the soft, barely audible slide of scales against stone - made her blood run cold. From where they were, hidden by the wall, they had a limited view of one of Orochimaru's - Sasuke's - snake summons, as it slithered through the same side street that she had had come through, before emerging onto the road, barely twenty feet from them. Sakura heard the breath catch in the throats of the two shinobi on either side of her, as the monster slowly reared into an upright position. It was easily forty feet tall, and as thick around as the trunk of an ancient oak tree. Its soulless, cold eyes gleamed yellow - so like Orochimaru's - and each fang in the beast's mouth was as long as her entire arm, glistening with deadly venom.

It was suddenly obvious that _this, _and the two others like it, was what had utterly decimated the streets she had just seen. Before she could even think about what they could possibly do, before it turned on the hospital, the massive snake reared back and then, with unnatural speed, slammed its fangs into the top of the nearby grocery store. The stone building crumbled at the impact, folding in on itself, and through the cloud of dust, Sakura could see the snake's unblinking, reptilian eyes fix on the hospital. It began to slither closer, and she felt as if she was going to faint. "It's going to attack," she whispered, numb. "We have to…"

Even as she said it, she doubted herself. They were four people, yes, but the size and speed and strength of their opponent…

The squad leader, Nori, gritted his teeth. "We have to move. Surround it, now. And _whatever you do_, _don't look into its eyes_. These summons can paralyze you with their chakra if you make direct eye contact, and then they strike. Squad Three lost Kadan that way during the first wave of the attack."

All of them nodded their assent, and immediately fanned out to surround the serpent. Sakura's heart pounded; she remembered long-ago afternoons spent with Tsunade, who had taught her how to spar effectively while looking only at an opponent's feet. The snake stilled for an instant, as if surprised at their sudden appearance, and then he gave a low hiss. Nori was directly in front of it, and she was several feet to the left, but she was all too conscious of its gaze burning down on the top of her head. Where the other jounin were dressed in black and dark green, blending into the night, the bright red of her vest and the color of her hair stood out like a beacon.

Nori seemed to have noticed this as well. "Sakura," he said quietly. "Do you—"

"Got it," she replied, flexing her palms, which were damp with sweat.

"Taishi, Sachiko, get ready to fire."

They both nodded resolutely, each of them holding two long kunai in their hands.

Half a second later, the snake reared back and struck, aiming directly at Sakura. Though she had been expecting it, the speed of the attack was shocking, and she only narrowly dodged it. "Now!" Nori yelled, and the two kunai sliced through the air in the same second, hitting their marks dead center. Taishi's thrown blade pierced the snake's left eyeball, Sachiko's its right, effectively blinding it. The enraged, agonized hiss that emanated from it seemed to make the ground shake.

"It's going to start lashing out!" Sachiko cried, from the other side of the snake, barely avoiding being hit by its tail. "We're going to have to take it down now, before it hits the hospital!"

Nori tried engulfing it in a Katon, but the animal's scales seemed impervious to flame. When it struck at him, Taishi attempted cutting it in half with his katana, but even that barely drew blood. The snake turned on him then, fangs dripping venom, and while its back was to her, Sakura did the only thing she could think of. Loading her right hand with as much chakra as she could, she swung it toward the snake's body in a knifehand strike. The move had served her well during the second round of the jounin exams in Sand, when she had been fighting off a gigantic centipede in the desert arena.

The effect was instantaneous, as it had been then. The strike literally cut through the snake's body, severing scale, muscle, the thick spinal vertebrae, and tissue; effectively slicing it clean in half. The upper half of the dismembered serpent went flying, colliding with the storefront of a nearby cafe, and causing an explosion of shattering glass. Sakura jumped out of the way as Sachiko hit the back half with a wind jutsu, ensuring that it didn't hit the hospital, as it fell to the ground with a _thud _so loud it shook the earth.

* * *

Itachi had been looking for her all day.

He had knocked on her door in the morning, after getting ready, figuring that he could tell her what he had to while they walked to work together. But there had been no response, and he was forced to conclude that Sakura may have left for work earlier than usual. Undeterred, he had gone to the hospital during their coinciding lunch break - only to be told by one of the nurses that he had missed her by a matter of minutes; she had just left to meet a couple of her friends for lunch. Itachi returned to work, his resolve unwavering, but right as his day was ending - he and Sakura both got off their last shifts at the same time; they had often run into each other on their way home - somebody came in from another department with a question, and by the time they had sorted out the misunderstanding, fifteen minutes had passed.

He had searched for Sakura to no avail, even going to the grocery store she often stopped by on her way back from work, and then Ichiraku's, in case she had decided to have dinner with Naruto today. Itachi found Naruto at the ramen stand, happily demolishing a giant bowl of pork noodles, with no Sakura in sight. He asked, as casually as he could, if he had seen his teammate today, and Naruto nodded, setting his chopsticks down for a moment. "She passed by a while ago," he managed, around a mouthful of noodles, and then he frowned. "I yelled her name, but she didn't hear me. She looked…really sick, actually, pale and tired and like she was going to puke or something. She seemed like she was in a hurry to get home." He sighed, taking another bite of his food. "I guess she must have overworked herself at the hospital again. She's probably sleeping now, so you should wait until tomorrow to talk to her. One time me and Sai woke her up on an evening like that and she punched him so hard he had the bruise for like a _month._"

Itachi winced. The conversation he wanted to have with Sakura would be difficult enough, even if she was in a…more receptive…mood. "…She will be all right, though?"

"Yeah, all Sakura-chan needs is food and a good twelve-hour sleep, and she'll be back to her usual self," Naruto assured him.

He had ended up ordering a bowl of ramen as well, and afterward, Naruto had invited him to his apartment to watch the "awesome" horror movie double feature airing that night. It had been an enjoyable evening, the movies and Naruto's spirited commentary a pleasant diversion from the thoughts and fears and worries that had plagued him for the entire day, but until the very end - when Itachi had drifted off to sleep in the battered armchair - Sakura hadn't been far from his mind. He wouldn't rest easy until he told her the truth, he knew. She had made her way into his dreams, as well, but then Naruto was shaking him awake, his eyes wide with fear, and the curtains pulled open to reveal the destroyed West Gate and the fire that had already engulfed a good one-fourth of the village.

Everything after that was a blur of panic and confusion, and all Itachi could think about was his nightmare, several weeks ago. He had dreamed of Madara and Sasuke engineering an attack of cataclysmic proportions, and if anything, the reality was worse. Madara and Sasuke were hiding like the cowards they were, for now letting the unleashed tailed demon and the three snake summons do the killing and destruction for them. Amidst the chaos outside, he and Naruto had reported to Hokage Tower. They were amongst the first to respond, and had discovered, to their great relief, that tonight was one of the nights that Tsunade had stayed in her office late to work. The two of them were assigned to a team instructed to extinguish what part of the fire they could, and help corner the demon in one part of the village, in preparation for the necessary sealing.

It was one of the worst experiences of Itachi's life. Not because of the personal danger, but for the sheer nightmarish quality of it. The sight of so many parts of his beloved home burnt to ash, or destroyed in an instant by the demon's chakra blasts. Of other people, shinobi and civilian alike, burning alive in the flames or being blown apart by the blasts. Or the sight of the bodies, crushed beneath collapsed buildings, or the people who staggered out of the blaze, nursing horrific burns. And above all, the unmistakable scent of fire, and death, and charred human flesh.

It was too terrible to handle, and Itachi retreated inside himself as he did his duty, not allowing his mind to comprehend the agony and the pain yet, as he had done whenever the Akatsuki had extracted the tailed beasts from their still-living hosts. It was the only coping mechanism he had. And through it all, in the back of his mind, a small desperate voice asked _where is Sakura, where is Sakura, _over and over again, holding on to the nightmare image of searching for her body among the ruins of the hospital. She hadn't been among the number of shinobi that assembled at Hokage Tower - he had heard that the last anyone had seen her, she had been rushing to the civilian neighborhood near their apartment complex, presumably to lead an evacuation, but that had been at least an hour ago—

Itachi always had to shove the thoughts away, because of how they made him lightheaded with fear. _I should have gone to her before dinner, I should have woken her up-_

It had taken a long time, and the efforts of most of the active-duty shinobi in Konoha, but the demon was finally cornered. Itachi had thought that he was going to be among the shinobi helping with the sealing process, but then Naruto appeared beside him, panting with exertion, his eyes glittering with adrenaline; he had disappeared several minutes ago in response to an urgent summons from the Hokage. "Tsunade-sama told me to tell you-" he broke out in a coughing fit - "…that she wants you to find Madara now instead of later. To hold him off so that he doesn't interfere once he figures out that we're sealing the demon." He coughed again, looking miserable. "I didn't want you to go alone. And I've got to find Sasuke. But baa-chan insists that they need my chakra reserves for the sealing, and…"

Itachi placed a gentle hand on his friend's unburnt shoulder. He had been preparing himself and anticipating this command ever since they had realized who was behind this attack, and it was better that he go alone. "I understand."

Naruto grasped his arm. "Be careful," he said, his voice cracking a little, and then he tried to smile as he nodded toward the borrowed katana strapped across Itachi's back "Slice that Madara bastard's head off with that, okay?"

"I will," Itachi promised, his heart growing heavy. He felt more confident in the second claim than he did the first.

He left immediately. Ever since he and Naruto had run out of his apartment earlier in the night, he had been conscious of Madara and Sasuke's chakra lingering outside of the village, in the hills a few miles away from the East Gate. Finding them would be a relatively simple matter - but there was one person that he knew he needed to find first. Itachi followed the road to the hospital, scanning his surroundings in distress, and struggling to isolate Sakura's chakra amongst the hundreds of conflicting stimuli in the village. It wasn't long before the top of the hospital - mercifully still intact - came into view, and Itachi rushed forward, before stopping dead at the sight several meters in front of him.

The area in front of the hospital looked like a disaster zone. The nearby grocery store had collapsed in a pile of rubble, chunks of destroyed concrete spilling onto the street. One dismembered half of one of the giant snakes lay amidst thousands of shards of shattered glass, in what had been a cafe. The other half lay in front of the hospital, in the middle of a massive pool of blood and other bodily secretions. Four jounin stood clustered nearby, and Itachi's heart skipped a beat as he saw the one nearest to the hospital, standing in front of the glass double doors protectively. Sakura was literally covered in blood and gore and some sort of slime; it clung to her pale skin and her tangled hair, thrown up into a ponytail, and had drenched her singed clothes. It was obvious that she was the one who had executed the killing strike. She looked battered and drained and exhausted, but she was _alive. _It was the most welcome, beautiful sight that he had seen in recent memory, and Itachi wasn't even aware of saying her name until she turned, her surprised gaze fixing on his. She spoke a few words to the other jounin, who nodded and then ran off toward the west, where another snake head - the last of the three, he believed - towered over the Communications building.

Sakura stepped toward him, carefully making her way through the detritus that lined the streets. Itachi moved through it quicker, somehow managing to avoid stumbling in the remnants of the smashed concrete. His clothes and skin and hair were singed and covered in ash, the look in his eyes haunted, but otherwise he appeared all right, and her shoulders relaxed out of relief. "Itachi," she called. "What's going on? Are you—"

But then he was right in front of her, the expression his face unreadable in its intensity, and he reached for her, and Sakura stilled for a moment, wondering _What-_

—And all of a sudden, belatedly, as Itachi pulled her close by the waist and kissed her, long and hard and desperate, she realized who the _mystery girl _Ino had referenced earlier really was.

It felt like her knees were about to give out from sheer shock, but Sakura pressed hard against Itachi nevertheless, cupping her hands around his face and neck and kissing him back with every bit of passion she had. She had been back in Konoha for a year now, but perversely enough, she had never felt as _home _as she did in that moment. She could feel his muscles tense with surprise, and after several moments, when her cheeks were too wet with tears to continue, he pulled back, holding her close and wiping the tears from her face with his thumbs. There were very, very few times that Sakura had seen Itachi look more stunned and anguished than he did right now. "You still…" he began uncertainly.

Sakura shook her head, too overcome with emotion to do anything more. "I never stopped loving you," she managed, through her tears. "Through everything. Not really."

Itachi's eyes looked suspiciously shiny as well, as he embraced her. "Neither did I," he murmured brokenly, caressing the line of her cheekbone. "I wish—"

Knowing what he was about to say, Sakura cut him off with a kiss, tugging him down to her level with one hand curled around his ponytail. All the devastation around them aside, she never wanted this moment to end. They only broke apart at the sound of another building collapsing, and remembering where they were and what exactly was going on around them, Sakura looked up at Itachi anxiously, taking both of his hands in hers. "What's going on over there? Did you just come to find me, or—"

"The Hokage and several teams of shinobi are beginning the process of sealing the demon. Asuma Sarutobi has volunteered to be the host."

Sakura closed her eyes, remembering the year he had been her sensei, when she had joined Team Ten in the aftermath of Shikamaru's promotion to chunin. "How awful…" she whispered, but then she frowned, a thought suddenly occurring to her."What are you doing here? Where were you going with that katana?"

Itachi hesitated the way he always did when he was wondering how to tell her something he wouldn't like. "…Tsunade-sama sent me to find Madara," he replied, at last. "She was worried that once he figures out that we have cornered the demon in preparation for sealing, he will unleash something to disrupt the process - something even more damaging than what has been done already."

Sakura felt her body tense with dread. "And by _find Madara, _she means…fight him," she said slowly.

Itachi nodded once, the determination on his face belied by the way his hands trembled ever so slightly. Sakura shook her head stubbornly, refusing to believe it. "No. There has to be another way."

"There isn't," Itachi countered, the strain evident in his voice. "The others are either sealing the demon, putting out the fire, trying to kill the last of Sasuke's snake summons, or tending to the others. I have to do this, Sakura."

Sakura stared at him for a few seconds. "Fine," she responded shortly, before turning away. "Then I'm coming with you."

Itachi blocked her path before she could take another step. "You are not," he said flatly. "The other medics need you. They are sorely understaffed, and the volume of injuries is extremely high."

Sakura paused briefly and then shook her head again, obviously torn. "I can't leave you to face him alone! You can't ask me to do that!"

Itachi tilted his head to the side a little, his sorrow obvious as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the tender touch lingering at her temples. "I'm not," he replied quietly. "I'm asking you to do your duty, just as I will do mine."

Sakura glared at him angrily, her shoulders rising and falling hard with the strength of the emotion she felt, and for a few moments, Itachi was convinced that she was going to hit him. But then all of the fight seemed to drain out of her, and she reached out, taking his hand in hers. The look on her face very nearly shattered all of his resolve. "Promise that you'll come back to me," Sakura said softly, her voice cracking. "Please."

Itachi stepped close, kissing her forehead, her nose, her cheeks - Sakura reached up to wipe the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes - and then, finally, her lips. "I promise," he whispered.

Letting go was one of the hardest things Sakura had ever done. After one last gentle squeeze of her hand and a look back, Itachi walked away, and Sakura watched him go until he disappeared into the distance. It was only then that she turned and began to make her way back to the other side of the village, where Ino and Shizune were probably healing the injured. With every step she took, her heart felt heavier and heavier, and there was a war raging inside her that rivaled the battle that was taking place in Konoha that night. Itachi was right - her duty as a medic-nin was to take her place with the other medics and treat everybody who had been wounded while evacuating or defending the village. Undoubtedly the situation was dire, if the small sampling of civilians she had healed earlier was any indication of the kind of wounds she could expect to see among Konoha shinobi and other civilians. Even though her chakra was now almost completely exhausted, she could definitely still be of use in their efforts.

And yet…her instincts were _fighting _her on this, with unprecedented intensity. Telling her, in no uncertain terms, where she was meant to be.

And if she had learned one thing over everything she had been through in the past year, it was to trust her instincts, sometimes.

Sakura made up her mind in an instant. She turned and ran in the direction Itachi had gone, before she could doubt herself for another moment.

* * *

The moment that Itachi reached the East Gate, he masked his chakra, engaged a concealment genjutsu, and then vanished without even a puff of smoke, trusting his instincts to lead him in the right direction. In the next instant, he found himself standing in the middle of an extremely large, sunken meadow, and he felt his stomach clench into a knot as his gaze fixed on the figure pacing back and forth, several meters away. Itachi took a deep breath, unprepared for the wave of fury and loathing that filled him at the mere sight of Madara. The unimaginable horror and pain that he had unleashed on the village tonight—

It had been almost a decade since he had actually felt the desire to kill. It went against everything that he was. But ever since he had seen the first injured civilian - the entire jounin team that had been burnt alive - the little girl who had sat huddled on the side of the road, weeping for her parents - all he had wanted to do was to confront Madara and make him pay for all that he had done.

But there was one thing that made Itachi pause. Madara was alone here. Sasuke was nowhere to be seen - he could sense his younger brother's chakra signature racing away from the meadow, as a matter of fact. _I'm too late, _he realized suddenly, feeling the muscles in his shoulders tense up. Madara and Sasuke must have already realized what was happening in the village - and Sasuke had likely left to disrupt the sealing, and let the demon loose once again. This threw a wrench into his plans of confronting them both at once and forcing Sasuke to see sense, and for the first time in a very long while, Itachi was utterly at a loss for what to do. The Hokage had instructed him to eliminate Madara, but at the moment, Sasuke was the one who posed a more direct threat to Konoha…

But then, just as he was mulling it over, the decision was taken out of his hands. On the other side of the meadow, Madara abruptly stopped pacing, and went very still. He tilted his head upward a fraction of an inch, his manner reminiscent of a wolf that had just caught a scent, and Itachi could see the faintest hint of confusion on his face.

All of the nerves he had felt earlier had been replaced by a complete sense of pure, detached calm. This confrontation, between the two of them, had been a long time coming, and he knew that ultimately, this was the right choice. Konoha would never be safe as long as Madara lived. As the wind blew, rustling the tall grass, he released the genjutsu. And when Madara turned, he froze. The only sound in the meadow was the slide of metal against metal as Itachi unsheathed the sword strapped across his back, and that time was all that the older Uchiha needed to recover. "Itachi…" he breathed, unsmiling. "I should have known." But then he smirked, that repulsive expression that Itachi remembered so well, and spread his arms out in the guise of a welcoming embrace. "It is not too late for you to join Sasuke and myself. You will strengthen our alliance, and together, we can build a better Uchiha clan…in a better society than this one."

Itachi exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around the hilt of the katana, ignoring every word that came out of his ancestor's mouth. He did not have the inclination to play the mind games that Madara loved so dearly, or waste any time exchanging words. "This ends now," he said coolly, preparing himself for the onslaught that was to come.

"Really?" Madara asked, the smirk twisting into something even more sadistic, as his eyes bled crimson. The gathering dark chakra began to scorch the ground underneath their feet. "Well, then. I offered you a chance. It's your funeral, I suppose."

* * *

The first few miles outside of Konoha's East Gate were a welcome respite from the battle going on in the village. The air was cool and clean and smoke-free, it was quiet, and there was nothing to block the light of the moon as it filtered down from the sky. In happier times, a few years ago, she had camped here - in the hills and meadows outside the forest - with Team Ten. Sakura still remembered how soft the grass was; as they all lay down on it, listening to Chouji tell his ridiculously scary stories, and her chest hurt with how fiercely she hoped that they were all okay.

Back then, the grassy hills and meadows had been a serene place…but now, an oppressive, frightening aura, one that chilled her to the bones, lay over the entire area. It was that that let her know she was heading in the right direction; that Madara and Sasuke - and Itachi - were near. Beneath her feat as she ran, the ground was scorched and cracked, and if she had to make a guess, she would say that Itachi had found Madara and Sasuke in the large, sunken area a couple of miles away that Shikamaru had nicknamed Cloud Meadow - and made that their battlefield. Now, all she had to do was go and—

Sakura stopped suddenly, a shiver of foreboding coursing through her spine. Her eyes narrowed unconsciously as she scanned her apparently innocuous surroundings. She had sensed something that she couldn't chalk up to pure paranoia or nerves; an invisible presence not far from her at all…and getting closer. Tsunade-shishou had been adamant, during her training, that she learn to detect presences who had taken the measures of concealing their chakra and using a concealment genjutsu. She wasn't as proficient at it as Kakashi or some of the other jounin, but her knowledge was passable, and it had never led her wrong.

It took a superhuman effort, but Sakura flung her arm out, summoning as much chakra as she could spare, and an invisible but charged chakra barrier immediately sprung up behind her, blocking anybody from crossing over to the other side. Predictably enough, the movement of the presence she sensed stilled. Even though she already had a fairly good idea of what - or, more accurately, _who _- it was, Sakura stared it down defiantly. "Show yourself," she commanded, and she was pleased to hear that her voice didn't shake.

For a few heartbeats, there was nothing. And then the genjutsu melted away, and she found herself face-to-face with her former teammate.

Well. Not face-to-face exactly, as they were separated by the katana that Sasuke pointed straight at her heart; the deadly, sharp point an inch from her breasts. Sakura stood motionless, transfixed as much by the threat as she was by the sight of him. Six years had passed since the last time they had seen one another - since he had ignored her foolish but impassioned declarations of love and her offers to go with him when he abandoned Konoha, and knocked her unconscious, leaving her on that stone bench not too far from here - and the changes in him were shocking. Sasuke stood almost as tall as Itachi, his unkempt hair hanging to his shoulders. He was dressed head to toe in black, blending into the night, but his eyes burned with the crimson light of the Sharingan - and with barely-controlled rage. There was no hint of warmth or even _recognition _there, and the sight - just the _sight _- of him triggered all the fury that had been building in her since she had seen the first injured civilian.

Before Sakura could open her mouth to say anything, though, Sasuke cut her off, pressing the point of the sword even closer to her chest with an unwavering hand, his gaze boring into hers. "Release the barrier and step aside," he ordered flatly. "I will not hesitate to kill you if you refuse. Run away if you want. I'll kill you if you pursue me and try and stop me from disrupting the sealing, and if you just go back into the village, you'll be dead by sunrise anyway, along with the rest of them."

The words were a blunt statement of fact, and as Sakura looked up at her childhood teammate, she felt her knees tremble as she realized that he truly wasn't bluffing. Any vestige of romantic feelings she had for Sasuke were long gone, but her heart broke nevertheless. Knowing what she had to do, she nodded mutely, let the tears fill her eyes and overflow onto her cheeks, and stepped aside, releasing the chakra barrier. "Sasuke…" she pleaded, her voice small and broken. "Please don't do this, it's not too late to turn back, we can—"

"You've grown up to be smarter than I thought you would be," Sasuke commented casually, ignoring her words; a trace of a smirk visible on his face as he shoved past her. "If you leave now and keep heading due east, you might be able to outrun the demon…for a while, at least."

He moved to sheath his sword, and Sakura struck, as fast as a serpent. She grabbed his right wrist, paralyzing it with a shot of chakra, and wrested the katana from his grip. She held the point to his neck before he could do more than blink twice. The tears and defeated attitude were gone, replaced by a cold fury that Sasuke could have never imagined on her, and Sakura took satisfaction in the shock that flitted through his eyes. "Take one more step and I will gut you," she said, through gritted teeth. It was a struggle to keep her grip on the sword steady; the rage that consumed her was so great. "What the _fuck, _Sasuke? What are you _doing_? Do you have any idea - what possessed you to do something like this?"

"Shut up!" Sasuke yelled, and for a second, he looked positively deranged. He lunged forward, his hands closing into fists, and startled by his change in demeanor, Sakura jabbed the point of the katana just far enough into his throat to draw a pinprick of blood. He went still, but continued to seethe visibly, and he kept flexing his hands convulsively, as if stifling the urge to strangle something. "You don't understand," he spat. "You don't have a clue about what this village did to Itachi and my family!"

Sasuke's voice broke on the last word, and he looked away from her immediately, as if just the sight of the symbol on her forehead protector disgusted him. Sakura took a deep breath, trying to marshal her emotions. As horribly misguided as he was, his pain was raw and real. Everything that happened was a tragedy, in every sense of the word, and he had been hurt terribly. "I know what happened," she replied cautiously. "The truth, I mean. Of what Danzou and the Council of Elders made Itachi do…on his last mission as a Konoha shinobi."

Sasuke scowled at her, and the spike of lethal intent in his chakra made Sakura even more conscious of the fact that she barely had any to spare. There was only enough for one, maybe two, very minor techniques before her reserves were totally exhausted. The only thing really defending her from him at this point was the sword. "Let me go, then," he snarled. "Even a loyalist like you can see that what they did was abominable. I can see it in your eyes."

He was trying to use conversation to lull her into a state of distraction, Sakura realized, and she tightened her grip on the katana. She didn't know if her attempts would be successful, but she had to at least try to talk him down from this madness. If the two of them backed Itachi up in the fight, they had a much better chance of taking down Madara. As it stood now, they were at an impasse. Sasuke couldn't be allowed to get past her and enter the village - and she couldn't press forward to join Itachi without either incapacitating Sasuke or taking him with her. "It was," she agreed evenly. "But what you're doing is just as awful! The people who engineered the murder of your family - Danzou, the Council of Elders, the Third Hokage - are all either dead, imprisoned, or exiled. Do you think this senseless massacre of innocents, and the destruction of the home he loved so much and sacrificed so much for, is what Itachi would have wanted?"

A spasm of pain crossed Sasuke's face, and Sakura suddenly remembered that for all this time, he and Madara had been under the impression that Itachi was dead. They still were. "My brother had a gentle heart," her former teammate said quietly, before glaring at her again. "Which is why what was done to him was so inexcusable. Somebody has to pay the price. Your Hokage—"

"Oh, spare me the bullshit Madara fed you about how Tsunade and the Senju clan are so evil," Sakura interrupted furiously, her hand beginning to tremble under the strain of holding the heavy, unfamiliar sword for so long. "Once Tsunade found out the truth, _she _had Danzou and the Council imprisoned; she revoked Itachi's criminal status and offered him a formal apology and reinstated his status as an honorable Konoha shinobi. And she's said numerous times that she would have never, ever made him do what they forced him to."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, and Sakura could see him analyzing the words that had come out of her mouth and putting the pieces together in his head. At first, she had been unsure about the wisdom of dumping such sensitive information on somebody so very unstable, but she didn't seem to be getting anywhere with him. Time was of the essence, and she was running out fast.

"Ask me where I was going when I intercepted you, Sasuke," she said quietly. "Those faint hints of his chakra signature you've been sensing all night…it wasn't just your imagination or wishful thinking. Itachi is alive, and right now, he's probably fighting Madara to end this, and let the village live in peace. Come with me, and you'll see."

It was like her words had turned Sasuke into stone. All the color drained from his face, and he took a small step back, obviously shocked.

And that was when he knocked the katana out of her hands with one lightning-quick strike, sending it flying several feet away. Before Sakura could even blink; before she could even fully comprehend what had just happened, Sasuke attacked, punching a stream of flame that she evaded by an inch. "How dare you lie about that?" he raged, picking up the katana and pointing it at her face, slowly advancing on her, and despite herself, Sakura felt a tremor of fear. Aside from Orochimaru, she had never seen somebody look so frighteningly inhuman before. "How dare you use him as a shallow ruse - a trap devised to lure me away from your pathetic village?"

Sasuke lunged forward with impossible speed and slashed, a strike that would have made her bleed to death within minutes if she hadn't dodged it, and all of a sudden, Sakura felt so very _tired. _It felt like hours had passed since she had opened her window to see Konoha in flames. Her chakra had been sorely depleted even at that time, and since then, she had pushed herself to the limit. Itachi was facing Madara alone and she couldn't get to him, and she didn't have the chakra to do any of her most powerful, damaging techniques - the super strength or the medical ninjutsu. What could she do now? "I'm not lying," the pink-haired kunoichi insisted, and this time, the desperation and the tears that choked her voice weren't a deceit. "Trust me."

Sasuke responded by trying to impale her again. "You should have run, Sakura," he said coldly, shifting his position for another strike. "You can't do this forever. I'm not going to play games with you any longer."

He tried to move forward, and froze. Literally. As Sakura completed the last hand seal of the only paralysis jutsu she could manage, the ice that had sprung up around Sasuke's feet and ankles snaked up his legs, hips, torso, arms, shoulders, neck…and head, trapping him in an oversized, heat-resistant ice crystal. Sasuke looked horrorstruck, until he realized that he could breathe - barely - in his prison. That was the extent of his range of motion, though. When Tsunade-shishou had taught her this technique, she had confined her in it for a couple of minutes as a demonstration. Sakura hadn't been able to even move an eyelid.

As recently as a few minutes ago, she would have wanted to vent her fury, frustration, and heartache by punching and kicking an immobilized and defenseless Sasuke until he was black and blue. Now, though, she was too tired to do anything more than stare at him, and hope for Itachi's sake that he wouldn't be executed for his crimes. "I'll send a team out here to come and get you once everything is cleared up," Sakura said flatly, turning away. In the next step, she staggered and almost fell, barely managing to regain her balance.

One quick check confirmed that she now had no more than a trickle of chakra left. _Critical point for shinobi, _she could hear Tsunade telling her. _Any further expansion of energy now puts your life at risk. _She was so depleted that she felt on the verge of fainting. Her only hope of being any use in the fight was if she relied solely on weapons - if Itachi distracted Madara long enough for her to hit him with a kunai…

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than Sakura realized that something was wrong. Something was _very _wrong. She could feel it in the air, and the moment she recognized what it was, her stomach turned over with pure dread.

* * *

The strike - the last, desperate swing of his katana, in the moment when he was sure he couldn't keep fighting anymore, not when he was bleeding like this - took Madara's head off in one surprisingly quick, clean motion.

Itachi had never killed anybody in that manner before. As blurred and indistinct as his vision was - from the blood that ran into his eyes from the head wound that had ensued when Madara had tried to gouge his eyes out, as well as the overall blood loss - the gruesome sight was instantly emblazoned in his memory. The way the severed head flew and rolled and came to a rest several feet away, the dead, sightless eyes staring blankly at the sky…and then, how the decapitated body collapsed, like a puppet with the strings cut out from under it. _Dead, _he thought numbly. _Truly, finally, dead. _And from what he could sense…it felt like the sealing of the Eight-Tails was complete, or close to it, as well. The demon's massive, unrestrained chakra no longer saturated the air. It was all over.

The blood-drenched katana fell from Itachi's nerveless grip, and his knees gave out beneath him. He knelt on the ground, huddling into himself like a child; like he had in the aftermath of the massacre, when he had finally stopped running and taken shelter. He was so tired… so very tired. And when he looked down at the ground beneath him, his head spinning - his Konoha forehead protector had fallen off in the fight, and he wanted to pick it up again - all he could see was his left hand, pressed to the stab wound just above his heart, trying in vain to hold the blood in. His energy had been so drained by the fight that any attempts to direct healing chakra to the wound faltered and failed instants after they began.

_Get up, _a small voice in his head insisted. For a few moments, Itachi wasn't sure if it was just wishful thinking, or if his brain was feeling the effects of the acute injuries he had sustained, but…now that Madara was gone and the Eight-Tails had been sealed, he could sense the faintest traces of Sakura and Sasuke's chakra signatures nearby. Even now, a slight sigh escaped his battered body. Of course Sakura would have tried to follow him. But she seemed relatively unharmed, as did Sasuke, and all he really wanted to do now was to see both of them one last time.

It took a superhuman effort, but Itachi dragged himself to his feet, and used what little energy he had remaining to disappear, leaving the blood-soaked battlefield behind.

He materialized in another meadow, one that was clean and untouched by violence. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sasuke - who was trapped, motionless, in some kind of oversized ice crystal, a katana in hand; he had obviously been ready to attack. His brother stared right at him, and Itachi wasn't sure whether he imagined the way Sasuke's eyes widened in shock and horror. It shouldn't have been possible, he noted absentmindedly, but most of his attention was focused on the battered-looking Sakura. She looked at him, and it was like she had been viciously struck - all the blood drained from her face, and the cry of pure despair that escaped her throat was one of the most horrible things he had ever heard.

Sakura rushed to him, supporting his weight against her, and pulling his left hand away from his chest so that she could see the damage. "Oh, no," she breathed, looking up at him in anguish. "Itachi…"

He touched her cheek gently, with shaking hands, smearing the pale skin with a few drops of blood, and he actually tried to smile, as if he was attempting to console her. "It's all right, Sakura," Itachi managed, and the tenderness in his eyes and voice made her heart break. "It's over. You and Naruto and the others can all live in peace, now."

Sakura shook her head, refusing to believe it. All vestiges of composure had been shattered; tears were streaming down her face. "No," she kept repeating. This couldn't be happening. She would not allow it. Itachi leaned against her heavily, resting his head against her shoulder as if seeking some solace, and she could feel his ragged, uneven breaths against her neck as she eased him down onto the grass, making him lie on his back and arranging his arms by his sides.

Sakura took a few deep breaths, trying in vain to calm herself. She knew what she had to do now. She could hear Tsunade's voice echoing in her ears. _Critical point for shinobi_, _any further expansion of energy now puts your life at risk. _When chakra was exhausted and the shinobi kept exerting themselves - as they would for a major healing - the requisite energy would then be drawn from the shinobi's own life force. She had seen it happen with Chiyo, years ago; she had witnessed the process and consequences firsthand.

Time was running out. Itachi appeared to have lost consciousness. There wasn't even a moment of hesitation.

Sakura positioned her hands over the wound, and began to heal.

* * *

_to be continued_

* * *

Thank you for reading, and as always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


	20. The Wake

As always, thank you so much to everybody who was kind enough to leave a review. :)

* * *

Chapter Twenty: The Wake

* * *

Sasuke truly hadn't wanted to kill her, until she had opened her stupid mouth and attempted to tell him that lie about Itachi.

The depths to which she showed herself to be willing to sink to were disgusting. Sakura had already deceived him once during their encounter, and he would not be fooled again. And even after he had confronted her about it – about her audacity in daring to use Itachi in an attempt to trap him – his former teammate had kept maintaining that it was the truth, and begging him to cease his attack on her. It had irritated him. No, more than that, it had _incensed _him, and when he lifted his katana one last time, he had fully intended on going in for the killing strike. He had given her ample opportunity to escape, and she had repaid his mercy with the most atrocious attempt at emotional manipulation.

It would be no more difficult than killing a lamb up for slaughter. Sakura was weak, her chakra was sorely depleted, and her stamina had nearly exhausted itself.

It was only after Sasuke had lunged forward that he realized what a terrible mistake he had made. How often had he been taught not to underestimate his opponents? But, as had happened a few times before…his emotions got in the way. He had been blinded by his fury, by his desire for revenge. And by the time he felt the tendrils of ice from Sakura's paralysis ninjutsu snaking up his feet, ankles, and legs, with impossible speed, binding him in a grip stronger than iron, it was too late. In a second, the tendrils solidified into a massive, oversized ice crystal that encased him from head to toe, literally freezing him in place. He recognized this technique – it was a favorite of Suigetsu's. _When I lock someone in this, there's no escaping, _his teammate had bragged. _You can't melt through it. You can't move a muscle. You can't even blink._

Sasuke had never given Suigetsu's boasts much thought, figuring that the former Mist-nin was just exaggerating, as usual. He had never thought he would be in a position to experience it for himself.

…But Suigetsu had been telling the truth. It was even worse than he had made it sound. Not only was he utterly paralyzed, but he could barely even _breathe. _A wave of intense claustrophobia hit Sasuke at once, making his head spin. Regardless of all of his attempts, he couldn't _move. _Not a single one of the nerves or muscles in his body was able to respond to his frantic commands. He hadn't experienced a feeling of helplessness on this magnitude in ten years, and it frightened him and enraged him all at once.

His view of the world outside his prison was clouded significantly by the ice. He could barely discern Sakura's figure – damn her, _damn _her, the thought of being defeated by somebody so weak and insignificant was more than he could bear – as she stood in front of him. She said something that he could hardly hear, her voice flat. Something about how she would send a team out here to retrieve him once all the fighting was done.

The words only made him struggle more, but to absolutely no avail. Sakura turned away, and in the next step, she staggered and almost fell. Even from the confines of the ninjutsu, Sasuke could tell that she was now even more weakened than she had been before. She had exhausted the last of her chakra on the technique that she had used on him. _Good, _he thought spitefully. _You'll be no use in combat or as a medic in this state, let's see you help your pathetic little village now—_

He wasn't even finished with that train of thought before his world turned upside down.

At first, Sasuke thought it was some kind of hallucination, brought on by emotional strain, chakra exertion, a further escalation of a gradual lapse in sanity, _something _along those lines_. _There had been times, in his most intense period of mourning, and even sometimes afterward, too, after Madara had told him the truth, that he had been outside, walking the streets of a town or standing in a crowded market, and he'd thought he had seen his brother standing amidst the crowd of people. He knew better, he _should _have known better, but he would always stop sharply and take a second or third look at the person. It was never Itachi, of course, and even though it was foolish and nonsensical on his part, Sasuke would always feel even more bereft in the few minutes afterward.

He ruled out the possibility of a hallucination fairly quickly, though. Then he thought that it was some kind of genjutsu, and he quickly dismissed that idea as well. And _then _he thought that it must have been a mistake; that it must be somebody else that had just materialized in front of Sakura. His vision was just failing him, or it was distorted by the ice.

Because there was no way – no possible way – that his brother could have actually materialized in front of him. Battered. Bleeding. Clutching a blood-soaked hand to a gaping wound in his chest. But _looking _at him, nevertheless, right in the eye, his expression almost one of relief.

_But chakra doesn't lie, _Sasuke realized faintly. His head was pounding. If it wasn't for the ice holding him in his position, he might have fallen to his knees in shock. _Chakra never lies. _He had spent so many years of his life obsessed with that chakra signature. Itachi's chakra signature had been the very first he had learned, besides his mother's, since both of them had spent so much time taking care of him. It had been a source of comfort and reassurance for years. Whenever he had sensed that familiar chakra approaching as a toddler and child, no matter where in the compound he was, he remembered running, or trying to run, to the gates of the compound, in order to meet Itachi as he returned from a mission.

Years later, that once-beloved chakra signature had become a source of fear and hatred. He had countless nightmares about how it had felt on that fateful night of the massacre – dark, hateful, suffocating. He had spent so long trying to hunt it down, in order to get his revenge. In any case, it was one as familiar to him as his own. It was unmistakable.

The implications of that fact hit Sasuke like a ton of bricks, with an intensity more shocking than the most violent physical assault he had ever faced during his life as a shinobi. Itachi was really alive. Which meant that Sakura _had_ been telling the truth all along when she had been begging him to go find Madara with her, in order to back up his brother during the fight. He had refused and accused her of being a liar, and…

Sasuke couldn't look away from the blood that soaked Itachi's dark clothes and spilled over his hand, from the stab wound right above his heart, and his stomach turned over due to sheer horror. He redoubled his efforts to break free of the paralysis ninjutsu somehow, as Sakura rushed to his brother's side, her sharp cry of anguish clearly audible even through the ice. She supported Itachi's weight against her, prying his hand away from his chest to ascertain the damage, and the look on her face as she regarded the injury made Sasuke feel as though the ice surrounding him had crept underneath his skin and into his veins. Itachi was touching her face, trying to say something to her, but Sakura kept shaking her head, obviously distraught, as she lowered him to the ground.

Under normal circumstances, Sasuke wouldn't have been too concerned. He had heard that the once-useless little Sakura had grown up to be a powerful A-ranked kunoichi and one of the most skilled medic-nin in the world, as a result of her apprenticeship with the Fifth Hokage. Of course she would be capable of healing Itachi. Rumor had it that she was so talented she could bring people back from the brink of death, and from injuries even more severe than this.

But these weren't normal circumstances. Sakura's chakra had been spent. She had used the last of it fighting him, Sasuke knew, and the sense of horror he felt was growing ever stronger. He could sense that she had nothing left to give energy to the healing but her own life force…which she was already pouring into Itachi's body, heedless – or uncaring – of the consequences.

But the thing was, it might not be enough. He wasn't sure how these things worked. His brother had been gravely injured. Even if by some miracle he managed to survive… He had seen the way Itachi had embraced his former teammate, as well as Sakura's powerful emotional reaction to seeing Itachi so badly hurt. For some reason, his brother seemed to value Sakura. It would devastate him to wake up and realize that a person he cared about had knowingly sacrificed their life for his. And that was _if _whatever Sakura intended to do even worked. Sasuke could sense that she only had a few minutes left – not enough, he suspected – and that was a rough approximation. If she died before the healing was complete, Itachi would die as well. Both of them, right in front of his eyes. While he was powerless to do anything more than watch from the confines of his prison.

The thought was enough to snap what felt like the last vestige of sanity that he had left. Sasuke wanted to scream at the injustice; at his foolishness; at _everything, _until there was no breath left in his body. More than anything else, the desire to fall to his knees and sob was overwhelming. The idea of losing Itachi like this, after everything – before they had even got a chance to speak to one another again – was incomprehensible. His eyes stung, but the tears couldn't form. That was impossible. There was only one thing that he could do.

Sasuke began to fight, harder than he ever had in his life. These paralysis ninjutsu were notoriously hard to break – but he had defeated Orochimaru, one of the legendary Sannin and an S-ranked shinobi; he had even been able to hold his own against Itachi in combat. If he could do that, then he could manage this. He marshaled every bit of chakra he possessed, bringing it to the surface as he struggled to shatter the bonds that held him. The effort was tremendous, but after a long, agonizing minute, he could feel the prison of ice begin to weaken slightly. Not enough to break free, but enough to give him some hope. He threw yet more chakra into the fight, drawing from his deepest reserves, and gritting his teeth as he did so. The physical strain was crushing. He couldn't remember the last time he had expended this much sheer willpower and physical and mental effort in a fight. But there was no alternative. His time was running out. All of theirs was.

Sasuke's heart nearly stopped as, through the sweat that beaded on his forehead and ran down into his eyes, he saw Sakura collapse on top of his unconscious brother. The energy flowing from her hands to Itachi's still-critical wounds was getting weaker. The dread he felt threatened to choke him.

_Come on, _Sasuke thought desperately, redoubling his efforts yet again. His vision was clouded by pain and tears. _Please. Please. _He remembered his mother and father and the clan with agonizing vividness. They lay buried not far from here; Madara's corpse was probably nearby as well. He would _not _be able to survive burying his last living relative. It was uncharacteristic, but he threw a wild prayer to the sky. _Give me your strength, all of you, please—_

One more desperate surge of chakra, and the ice crystal shattered into a thousand tiny fragments, freeing him from his prison. Hardly able to breathe for gratitude, Sasuke stumbled forward, throwing aside his sword, and sunk to his knees beside Sakura and Itachi, his eyes already bleeding crimson with the light of the Sharingan. He took in the healing technique Sakura was using on the stab wound on Itachi's chest, copying it in an instant, before grabbing Sakura by the shoulder roughly, hauling her upright and pulling her away from Itachi before she could drain any more of her critically fragile life force. She fell against him, and her eyelids drifted open as she looked, bewildered, at the chakra-covered hands he placed on Itachi's chest to continue the healing.

"Shut up," Sasuke managed, under his breath. To his immediate and all-consuming relief, the copied healing technique worked perfectly. With his considerably stronger chakra reserves to power the effort, the gaping, mangled wound in Itachi's chest was slowly but surely repairing itself. A sound halfway between a laugh and a strangled sob escaped his throat. "I'm helping, see? I'm helping."

As if reassured, Sakura's eyelids fluttered shut again. She leaned against him heavily, one of her hands still clutching Itachi's motionless fingers, as she succumbed to unconsciousness once more. Sasuke spared her a glance that wasn't as dispassionate as it had been fifteen minutes ago, when they had first encountered one another. She had come very close to sacrificing her own life to save his brother. According to his best guess, he thought she would live – if she got medical attention, fast.

Sasuke steadily continued the healing until the stab wound had closed over, and only then did he allow himself to breathe a shaky sigh of relief. He stroked Itachi's injured face and blood-matted hair with tremulous hands. It looked like Madara had tried to gauge his left eye from its socket, and only narrowly missed. He had no idea how to heal a wound like that. He couldn't help but think that once it was healed, it might leave a scar similar to the one Kakashi had.

Kakashi…he was probably still in Konoha, trying to protect the village. The man was too formidable a shinobi to have been killed already. And thoughts of Kakashi immediately lead to thoughts of Naruto, and…

_Am I making the right decision? _Sasuke wondered briefly, and then his shoulders slumped, after another brief sigh. Itachi would think it was the honorable course of action.

He realized the magnitude of what he was about to do. The consequences were unsettling to behold. But really, he had no other choice.

Sasuke released the genjutsu that masked his chakra. With a sense of bitter amusement, he imagined Naruto and Kakashi and all the rest, at that very second, stopping whatever they were doing and tilting their faces to the sky, like dogs on a hunt. And then, just to make things _very _clear for them; to speed up this entire process…he lifted one fist into the air and shot a beacon of flame sixty feet high, letting it linger for a few moments. Even when he released the technique and brought his hand down, resting it on Itachi's forehead, he could feel the heat lingering in the air. It took him a while to realize the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach was apprehension at what he would soon be facing.

He bowed his head, trying to regain some semblance of calm. He kept holding on to Itachi and put his other arm around Sakura, supporting her. It was better that they immediately see him as nonthreatening; that would lessen his chances of being killed on sight. And Sasuke closed his eyes briefly, waiting for help to come.

* * *

For a long time, there was nothing except darkness.

She had the sense that there was something that she was supposed to do. Disjointed images flashed behind her eyelids, of Itachi's motionless body, lying prone on the blood-soaked grass. Sakura tried to stir, restless, and desperate to continue the healing, but she couldn't open her eyes or lift her hands. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't even move a single muscle. When she tried to call for help, no sound escaped her aching throat.

There was no choice but to remain still and mute, trapped in a vacuum inside her own body. It could have been hours, days, weeks, or months that she just lay there, before she heard the sound – the first sound she remembered hearing since the faint recollection of Itachi saying goodbye to her. The mere thought made Sakura's stomach clench up with dread, a feeling only enhanced by the steady, monotonous, mechanical-sounding beeping noise that seemed to be emanating from her own arm.

_Don't open your eyes, _she thought, somewhat irrationally. The memories of that horrible night were trickling back to her now – her evacuation of the civilians and her time tending to the severely injured, defending the hospital with the other jounin and taking down the snake summons, seeing Itachi again, fighting Sasuke, and then…

A shudder wracked her entire body. She was too afraid of what she would see – and what knowledge she would wake up to – if she opened her eyes now. She was a kunoichi, she was brave, but there were some possibilities so frightening that you couldn't face them head-on.

Sakura stayed still, marshaling her courage and strength for a few moments. Her eyelids felt heavy and leaden as she fought to open them, and keeping them from automatically drifting shut again was a struggle as well. She blinked a few times, her sleep-fogged vision taking some time to clear, as her surroundings eventually became apparent. She was stretched out on a hospital bed, in a darkened single room of Konoha's hospital. _Room 314 or 317, most likely, _she thought to herself, dazed, as she stared at the wall immediately in front of her. Once, she and Ino had decided that these two rooms had the ugliest floral paintings hung on their walls.

And the very fact that she was lying here that meant that the hospital had survived the attack, and her sigh of relief came out as just a small, ragged breath. Moving her head even an inch to the side was an excruciating effort that sent a sharp pain through her stiff, aching neck, but it was enough for the pink-haired kunoichi to see the three intravenous needles stuck into her arm. All of them were connected to separate machines.

Comprehension dawned slowly. She had survived her attempt at healing Itachi…which she honestly hadn't been expecting to do. From how awful and sore she felt, Sakura guessed that she had fallen into a chakra exhaustion-induced coma during the healing. The symptoms were always so easy to recognize. A thought suddenly occurred to her, making her already stiff muscles tense up even further. If she hadn't been able to complete the healing…

Sakura turned her head to the other side slowly, wincing at the protest of her aching muscles, as she finally registered the gentle pressure surrounding her right hand. A tiny smile spread across her lips as the sight in front of her sunk in, and the pure, all-compassing joy and relief she felt was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

Itachi sat, sound asleep, in a chair pulled as close to her bed as it would get. His clothes were slightly wrinkled, his hair in a state of disarray – by his standards – and the stress lines underneath his eyes seemed deeper and more pronounced than usual. The dark circles under his eyes and his unusually stiff posture clearly showed that he was sleep-deprived and that he had been huddled up in this uncomfortable chair for quite some time – but the important thing was that he was _alive, _and whole, in such dramatic contrast to how she had last seen him. Sakura took it all in, down to the most minute detail, like how his long eyelashes looked against his skin, for a moment, overwhelmed. Itachi held her hand in his, and she savored the strength and warmth of his palm and fingers, and the way she could see his pulse beating ever so slightly underneath the skin of his wrist.

It was almost too much to believe, and in an attempt to convince herself that all of this wasn't just some kind of dream, Sakura carefully brushed the tips of her fingers against Itachi's palm, feeling it twitch. His fingers intertwined with hers instinctively, and she watched, unable to keep herself from smiling, as Itachi's eyes drifted open – and he sat up straight, startled.

"Hi," Sakura murmured, her voice rusty from lack of use, as she rubbed her thumb across his knuckles.

The look on Itachi's face was reminiscent of his expression in the instant before he had kissed her so unexpectedly in the middle of the battle. He said her name, his voice sounding just as hoarse as hers, and then he slid forward, wrapping his arms around her and embracing her as best as he could, considering their awkward positioning. Sakura couldn't quite reciprocate, thanks to the needles stuck into her immobile left arm, but she arched her neck upward in order to press a soft kiss to his cheek. His breathing was slightly unsteady, and when she inhaled, Sakura caught the scent of tears, as he kissed her on the forehead. "I am so glad that you are all right," he whispered, looking her in the eye searchingly, and his hand shook somewhat as he stroked her tangled hair back from her face.

Itachi's worry was obvious, and Sakura shifted restlessly in the bed, wishing that she could sit up and hold him in her arms. She felt disturbingly weak and frail, and from what she had seen of her arms, they looked thinner than she remembered. She had to settle for squeezing his hand, looking up at him pleadingly. It made her think back to the time in Cloud, when she had woken up with total amnesia after her head injury, and gone to him in search of answers. So much had taken place since then…

"I'm fine, but what – what happened?" she asked, coughing. "With the sealing, with Sasuke – how long have I been out? How are you feeling?"

Before Itachi could respond, there was a brisk knock on the door, which then swung open with a bang as Naruto charged inside, looking anxious and ecstatic all at once. "Sakura-chan! You're finally awake! Are you okay?"

He rushed over and hugged her tightly, despite the barrier provided by the machines. Tsunade followed him inside at a more sedate pace, giving both Itachi and Sakura a nod of greeting. Sakura felt a small part of the tight, nervous knot inside her unclench at the confirmation that the two of them – two of the people she had worried for the most – were okay. The Hokage looked drained, through, pale with stress and older than her years, but she smiled nevertheless. "I thought I sensed your chakra, Sakura. You've been out for four days. How are you feeling?"

Naruto pulled the blinds open, filling the room with early morning sunshine. Sakura craned her neck in a desperate attempt to see the village outside of the window and assess the situation, while Tsunade checked her vital stats. "Thank you, shishou. And I feel fine – I was just asking Itachi to fill me in on everything that happened since I passed out…" She couldn't help the urgency and impatience that crept into her voice. Ever since taking the position of the Hokage's apprentice five years ago, she had never been out of the loop and uninformed. She had always been on top of the situation, and never been the last one to know _anything, _let alone something as crucial as this.

"The sealing had just been completed by the time I defeated Madara, before I found you and Sasuke," Itachi began quietly, while Tsunade nodded.

"Asuma is doing well," she responded, forestalling the question halfway out of Sakura's lips.

Naruto perched on the railing of the hospital bed, a dark expression in his blue eyes. "It was just a couple of minutes after we had finished the sealing when I sensed Sasuke's chakra. It was like it came out of _nowhere. _Kakashi-sensei, Sai, and Yamato-sensei were all near me; we all felt it at the same time. But Neji was the one who saw the fire first – it was like this giant column, Sakura-chan, shooting about sixty feet into the sky. It was unbelievable. I knew Itachi had gone off earlier to look for Madara, and then it hit me that I couldn't sense his chakra anymore, or yours, or Madara's—" He stopped dead, looking anguished. "…Just Sasuke's. I didn't know what to think. I didn't wait for orders or anything, I just followed Sasuke's chakra signature to its source. Kakashi-sensei must have guessed what I was about to do, because he showed up with the others a second later."

Sakura blinked as she slowly put the pieces together, realizing what must have happened. "I wasn't sure what I would find," Naruto said, his voice shaking a little. "I thought that we were going to fight. But Sasuke…he was just kneeling there, in front of Itachi's body. There was blood everywhere, but Itachi didn't look hurt. Sasuke was holding you, too, and both of you were so still I thought…" He lapsed into silence for a few moments, looking down at the floor. "…So I got ready to attack him. I had the Rasengan all fired up and everything – but then he yelled at me to stop and said he would surrender, and he told me what happened to you guys."

Sakura looked up at the Hokage and Itachi incredulously. "You don't mean to say that—"

Tsunade nodded, looking grudgingly respectful. "He shattered the ninjutsu you had trapped him in. He also saw what you were trying to do and disrupted the healing just before your life force exhausted itself. Then he used the Sharingan to copy your healing technique, and he used that to save Itachi."

Sakura closed her eyes, feeling a massive headache coming on as she tried to envision it. She literally could not believe it – if only she had seen it herself… She felt overwhelmed by a dozen emotions at once. It was clear now that Sasuke had quite possibly saved both her and Itachi's lives. It was equally obvious that he was also at least partly responsible for this heinous attack on Konoha in the first place. _Although Madara would have probably eventually attacked Konoha with or without Sasuke; he hated it that much, _Inner Sakura pointed out, trying to be the voice of reason for once.

"What happened after that?" she asked, struggling to keep her tone calm, and wondering what she wanted the answer to be. "…To Sasuke, I mean?"

It was Itachi who spoke this time. "He and three of his companions have been imprisoned and are being held in the maximum-security cells underneath Hokage Tower, as the Strict Correctional Facility was destroyed in the attack."

His tone was carefully impassive, and his face looked like it had been carved in stone. Sakura felt her chest tighten with worry. It couldn't have been clearer that, despite Sasuke's action in saving both of their lives, Itachi hadn't forgiven his brother for his complicity in such a terribly devastating attack on their own village. The wanton violence, destruction, and loss of life went against everything that he stood for. Sasuke and Madara, by unleashing the Eight-Tailed Demon on Konoha, had come very close to utterly destroying everything that Itachi had sacrificed so much to protect. On the other side of her bed, Naruto looked similarly torn. He loved Sasuke like a brother, but his loyalty to his home made him see that his actions were inexcusable.

"As you know, the penalty for an offense such as this is death," Tsunade said quietly. "A lot of the village is already calling for the execution," – Naruto flinched visibly at the word, and Itachi took a deep, steadying breath – "…to take place as soon as possible." She sighed, rubbing her forehead tiredly. The dark, bruise-like circles underneath her eyes were even worse than Itachi's. "However, considering the circumstances, I'm not so sure that would be the wisest course of action. Either way, it will be quite some time before a decision is made. Reconstruction is our priority right now."

_Reconstruction. _The word jolted her out of the maelstrom of emotion she felt regarding Sasuke and _execution – _it hurt, physically, to even think those words in the same sentence. Sakura remembered her horror at seeing how badly even the small section of the village, near the hospital, had fared in the attack. She knew that the hospital and Hokage Tower were still standing, but she wasn't sure of much else. The damage must have been even more extensive than she imagined.

There was another related question that had been burning in Sakura's mind since she had woken up, but her fear of the answer filled her throat like a stone, making it difficult for the words to choke past it. "Were there…were there any fatalities?"

Of course there must have been, she knew that on a rational level. That didn't make it any less painful when Tsunade inclined her head slowly, in confirmation. "We lost twenty civilians and eighteen shinobi in the attack, including Raidou, Iruka, and Aki and Hiro Aburame."

The words were like a slap to the face, and Sakura blinked, stunned. The numbers seemed unreal. Impossibly high. Almost forty people dead. Those thirty-eight people were mothers, fathers, children, brothers and sisters…two of Shino's own cousins. And Raidou, who was like a brother to Shizune and Genma; who had been their genin teammate…and Iruka-sensei, who was so kind, universally beloved by every student who had ever been through the Academy. All of them had been alive that morning, and on the night of the attack, they must have gone to bed in their own homes, believing themselves safe; believing that they would wake up the next morning and go about their lives as usual. Her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head mutely, unable to believe the senseless cruelty and injustice of it. Beside her, Naruto wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve.

"We didn't lose anybody in our eleven, though," he tried to assure her, his voice trembling. "Or the jounin-sensei. Everybody's injuries were all pretty minor. Lee got a concussion from where a beam fell on him while he was getting a kid out of a burning house, but Shizune fixed him up right away."

Sakura sighed, thankful for at least that small mercy. The sorrow was too much, and she swallowed over the tightness in her throat. "I am so glad that you three are all right," she managed, as she looked at all of them in turn. If anything had happened to them…she couldn't even contemplate it. It made the tears even harder to hold back. "Really."

Tsunade patted her hand in a rare tender gesture. "The same goes for you, Sakura. You gave everybody a real scare when you came in." Naruto nodded fervently, while she gave the monitors one last check. The Hokage began to remove the tangle of wires and IV tubes that were hooked up to her arm. "You're in stable condition now, though, and I think it would do you better to rest at home than to remain here."

"Yes, please," Sakura sighed gratefully. She had only been hospitalized once before, for a brief overnight stay. She had been hit by a poison-filled dart during a mission shortly after being promoted to chunin. Neutralizing the effects of the poison on the field had been simple enough, but Shizune had kept her for monitoring, just in case. It had taken her just a few hours to determine that she liked the hospital as a patient much less than she did as a medic-nin.

Naruto spared a glance at the clock in the corner of the room and then let out an exclamation of surprise, jumping off the railing hurriedly. "I totally forgot that I promised Hinata-chan that I would be at the Hyuuga compound to help with the rebuilding half an hour ago! Sorry, Sakura-chan, but I've got to run." He gave her a winning grin, even as she shook her head in mock exasperation. "I'll stop by to see you as soon as we're done this evening, okay?"

He hugged her tightly again, before saying his goodbyes to Itachi and Tsunade, and Sakura watched him affectionately as he dashed out the door. She rubbed her arm then, relieved at the absence of the needles, and looked up at the Hokage, an idea suddenly occurring to her. "Tsunade-shishou, while I'm here, can I do a couple of rounds? You, Shizune, Ino, and the others must be really overworked, considering the large influx of patients—"

"No!" Tsunade and Itachi both snapped in unison, glancing at each other and then back down at her. The look on both of their faces was so intimidating that Sakura wilted against her pillows, thinking that this would have been amusing, under any other circumstances.

"_Absolutely _not," Tsunade clarified, reaching out and helping her struggle into a sitting position. "You are not to use any chakra _at all, _for _anything, _for at least the next three days, do you hear me? And I want you to take it easy for one week afterwards as well. Nothing more demanding _per day_ than the chakra use required for one moderate internal healing."

Sakura pulled a rebellious face at the strict instructions – they ensured that she would be just about useless in any facet of the rebuilding effort – but immediately assumed an appropriately subdued expression once she saw Tsunade glowering at her. "…Yes, shishou."

"In addition, you should take your three-hundred milligram fortified ginseng capsules twice a day with meals, while avoiding any strenuous activity for the next week, to aid in the recuperation process," the Hokage continued, glancing over her head at Itachi. "I am officially releasing you into Itachi's care, and I will _not _be happy if you end up back here tomorrow after overexerting yourself. Keep an eye on her, Uchiha."

"I will, Tsunade-sama," he agreed, as dutiful as ever.

Sakura raised a skeptical eyebrow at her shishou – who gave her a deadpan look, revealing nothing. Her expression softened in the next moment, though. "I am proud of everything you did on the night of the attack, Sakura. You showed tremendous courage and dedication, and fulfilled your duties as a medic-nin and a kunoichi admirably, as always. Come see me if you feel as if your recovery is not progressing as it should. And, Uchiha," – her gaze flickered over to Itachi – "I would like to meet with you early next week to discuss your brother. Let me know what time is most convenient for you."

They both acquiesced, bowing their heads respectfully, and Tsunade gave them another tired smile before she swept out of the room, leaving both of them alone together once again.

There was really only one thing to do, and Sakura turned, holding her arms out to Itachi in a silent invitation. He returned the gesture, hugging her close, and she felt all the breath leave his body in a soft sigh as she ran her hands over his back, tucking her head against the side of his neck and breathing him in. In the year that had passed since they had interacted with one another like this, she had almost forgotten how much pure warmth and comfort could arise from such a simple gesture. There had been a reason she had always sought him out after suffering one of her nightmares, during the time when her darker memories had returned to her.

For the second time in what felt like five minutes, Sakura had to blink hard to keep the tears welling up in her eyes from spilling over. It seemed so surreal, impossible almost, that the inevitable conflict that had been looming over them for so long was finally over. And that both of them had been a hairsbreadth away from never experiencing this again.

She could tell that Itachi was thinking the same thing, as he drew back slightly, his eyes reddened. Sakura took his hands in hers and lifted them up, pressing a gentle kiss to his fingers. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, looking into his eyes. "Considering everything…that's been going on with Sasuke, and all. How are you feeling?"

Itachi's shoulders slumped a little, and he looked away for a moment. The tension in his face was so pronounced that she longed to reach out and try and smooth the stress lines, and all the grief that had caused them, away. "Well," he responded, at length. "…Considering the circumstances." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Much better now that you're awake," he confessed, his voice barely audible.

It was evident that he didn't want to talk about it, not yet, and she had to respect that. _Put yourself in his shoes, _Inner Sakura advised. _You've been agonizing about nothing but that one issue for the past four days, when finally your loved one wakes up from a coma that you didn't know when – or if – they would come out of. It's only natural that you'd want to let yourself have that little bit of happiness. He'll probably be ready to talk about it later._

In silent agreement with her inner self, Sakura winced at the feeling of Itachi's fingers in her tangled hair…and the odd, vaguely reptilian odor that hit her nose when she looked down at her hair. She glanced at herself curiously, vaguely remembering how soaked with snake guts and blood her clothes had been after she had taken down the snake. Somebody had changed her out of those, thankfully, into a thin hospital gown. But her hair was still coated in a not-so-thin layer of grime; only her face, arms, and legs, had been wiped down.

"Ugh," Sakura mumbled, disgusted, as she pulled away, lifting a lock of hair to her nose and sniffing it, wrinkling her nose as she did so. "I can't believe I let you hug me. Sorry."

A small smile tugged on the corners of Itachi's lips as he squeezed her hand teasingly. "You've smelled worse."

"Oh, please don't remind me." Sakura blushed, mortified. The incident Itachi was referencing…it had been that time – that _one _time – Kisame had taken her out hunting. In the process (she still wasn't quite sure _how_), she had inadvertently gotten herself sprayed by a protective mother skunk. Kisame had laughed about it literally the entire way home, even though her stench had frightened away all the prey in the vicinity. The look on Itachi's face as she had stepped over the threshold of the base had been absolutely priceless…in reflection. Unable to stop the giggles rising in her throat, Sakura punched her smug-looking former teammate in the arm. "But you didn't let me hug you! All I wanted was a little affection and consolation, and you wouldn't even come near me!"

Itachi coughed to mask his laughter. "You smelled vile, Sakura. It was a reasonable response on my part. Instead of demonstrating understanding, you chased me around the upstairs, loudly demanding, '_Let me love you!'_"

The words and his deadpan impersonation brought it all back, and Sakura couldn't help but laugh, for the first time in what felt like forever. It felt wrong to do so, in the aftermath of everything that had happened in the attack. After all that had been lost, and with Sasuke sitting in a jail cell, potentially facing execution for his crimes…but she knew that if she didn't allow herself to laugh at this small snippet of joy, and appreciate the fact that she and Itachi were both still around to appreciate it, _together, _the full realization of the loss and sorrow would be too overwhelming, and she would start crying and then be unable to stop.

In the end, she had finally tackled Itachi onto his bed and held him there, plastering him with kisses. He had looked like he was about to cry from the overwhelmingly close proximity to the smell, and eventually, they had to use half of her bottle of bubble bath solution to rinse the foul-smelling spray off each other. That was the first time they had ever taken a bath together, and the memory of his hands on her skin, lifting her hair off her shoulders and rubbing against her back, sent pleasurable shivers down her spine…and motivated her to get out of bed so they could make their way back to one of their apartments as soon as possible. Contrary to the "information" presented in numerous volumes of Icha Icha and its spinoffs, not all medic-nin had a secret desire to use private hospital rooms for romantic liaisons.

"Anyway, I had better shower, then," Sakura sighed, grimacing as she swung her legs off the edge of the bed and tentatively stood up. All of the muscles from her hips down felt hopelessly stiff, and even taking the first small step forward, toward the adjoined bathroom, made her wobble slightly. It was disconcerting, to feel this weak.

Itachi rose from his chair, moving to support her. "Will you be all right? The shower is just a stall, so you will have to stand."

"I'll be fine," Sakura replied, stretching up on the tips of her toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I won't be in too long, but try and get some rest, okay?"

Thankfully, the worst of the spasms in her aching muscles subsided by the time she got to the bathroom, and the pink-haired kunoichi closed the door with a tired sigh. Somebody had left a bag of her possessions, including a toothbrush and some paste, a comb, and a complete change of clothes, lying against the wall. A handwritten get-well note from Ino was tucked between her vest and skirt, and Sakura smiled, placing it into the inside zipper of her vest.

The shower stall was cramped, but the water was steaming hot and just what she needed to feel human again. She stood under the stream of water and let it wash the filth and grime away, unable to summon the energy to scrub her skin or deal with her hair quite yet. Her mind still struggled to comprehend the full reality of what Tsunade-shishou, Itachi, and Naruto had told her. That outside of the protected bubble of her hospital room, while she lay sleeping, so much had happened. Sakura's lips twisted sorrowfully, her hands curling into fists. So many funerals…

The first thing she would do was visit Shizune and Genma to express her condolences, and it would probably be best if she took something with her as well. Food, perhaps – not only were they deep in mourning, but undoubtedly they had both been working around the clock, Shizune in the hospital, and Genma with the rebuilding effort. Sakura leaned against the tiles for a moment, wrapping her arms around herself. She felt cold, despite the warmth of the water. To lose a genin teammate like that; a lifelong friend and companion…it was like losing an arm, or something equally integral. They were just as much a part of you as any limb. And Shino, too, had lost members of his own family – cousins who had likely been childhood playmates. The Aburame clan was very close-knit, and the loss must have been heartbreaking. She and Shino had never been particularly close, but it was only right to go see him as well. Especially since it was her former teammate who had been at least somewhat responsible for his cousins' deaths—

Sakura shook her head hard, trying to rid herself of the thoughts. She squeezed the entire travel-sized bottle of shampoo into her hands and began to work it through her hair with more force than was really necessary. She could not think about Sasuke right now. She absolutely couldn't. All of her thoughts on the matter were a mess of hopeless, stomach-churning conflict. Yes, he had done something unspeakably horrible. He had the blood of almost forty people on his hands. Countless more lives, of the loved ones of the deceased, had been ripped apart as well. He deserved to be punished; that much was clear.

And yet…when it came down to it, she knew that Itachi and Naruto could never accept his execution. It would devastate them. Itachi had been through so much already. To watch Sasuke be executed would break him.

Sakura bowed her head, trying to focus on scrubbing her hair and body clean, and clear her thoughts of anything else. _You heard what Tsunade-shishou said, _her inner self assured her, sounding subdued. _There's going to be enough time to worry about that later. She was right. Rebuilding Konoha is the priority._

The last few traces of snake slime and innards swirled around her feet for a moment, before getting sucked down the drain. Sakura watched, her right hand tingling at the remembered sensation of slicing through the beast like a knife. The memory of what came afterward was more satisfying, and she reluctantly shut off the shower. For the first time, despite the affection they had shared earlier, it _really _hit her that she and Itachi seemed to be back together again. A quick glance in the mirror, as she wrapped the towel around herself and began to run her chakra-warmed hands through her hair to dry it, confirmed that the smile that had spread across her face at the thought was indeed as large and ridiculously happy as she had suspected. At the beginning of the night of the attack, she had been miserable, under the assumption that he was interested in somebody else and that any chance they had was over for good this time. But by the end… Well, at least one good thing had come out of everything that had happened.

Sakura got dressed as quickly as she could, reveling in the feeling of the clean, fresh-smelling clothes against her skin. Grabbing her bag, she slipped out of the bathroom to find Itachi dozing in the chair, though his eyes flickered open as soon as she came within a foot of him. "Ready?"

"Definitely." She held a hand out, helping him up.

They made their way out of the room, and as she had thought, the hospital was filled to capacity with injured shinobi and civilians. It felt _wrong, _to walk past the rooms and not go in and help. Itachi must have seen the frustration on her face, because he took her hand in his, giving it a brief squeeze. "It is all right, Sakura. I am sure that a lot of these patients will return for appointments with you after this week passes."

"I know," Sakura murmured, throwing a regretful glance into another one of the rooms she passed. A man lay in bed, half of his face bandaged, from what must have been a burn. "I just feel useless not being able to help them right now."

They took the stairs in silence and then stepped outside, into the bright sunlight. Sakura squinted, looking around and trying to take in as much as possible. It had been right here that she and the jounin team had that terrifying confrontation with the snake. The remnants of the grocery store and the cafe had been cleaned up, and the massive serpent's corpse had been disposed of. As they made their way down the street, back toward their apartment building, she looked around in all directions, wide-eyed. In the bright sunlight, with the streets bustling with activity as shinobi and civilians of all ages worked to clear the huge amounts of debris and fix up what buildings and storefronts they could, her recollection of the night of the invasion seemed like a nightmare. The darkness, the smoke clouding her vision, the deserted streets and destroyed buildings… Even now, though, with the rebuilding effort four days in, she could tell that the damage the village suffered had been immense. It looked like almost every street had felt the wrath of either the snakes or the Eight-Tailed Demon in some way or another.

"It's a miracle that you guys managed to corral the Eight-tails before it got to Hokage Tower," Sakura mused, watching a group of genin trying to salvage what was left of the stock of the armory from the rubble. "What's the extent of the damage? Is our building okay?"

"Eighty percent of the village has been affected in some way or another," Itachi frowned. "The residential area of the Hokage and the Council members, including the surrounding civilian neighborhoods, has been burnt to the ground. Two of the shinobi apartment complexes near Naruto's collapsed, and the Hyuuga and Inuzuka compounds both sustained fairly heavy damage. Our building survived, though."

Sakura lifted a hand to rub her neck wearily, thinking with a pang of all the civilians she had helped evacuate. The mother and father with the two small children, the elderly couple…there were so many people, who were now homeless; their houses and all of their worldly possessions burnt away in a matter of minutes. "It's a good thing that Tsunade-shishou always prioritized keeping the reparations accounts full," she mumbled. The old Council of Elders had disapproved of the large sums of money the Hokage set aside every quarter, but Tsunade had always overruled them. "A lot of people are going to need it."

She spared a fleeting thought for the fate of her childhood home. It was near Ino's and Shikamaru's, and Itachi hadn't mentioned the Yamanaka or Nara homes being damaged. When she finally found her parents and brought them back, she knew that was the home they would want to return to. The street that their apartment was on had been one of the parts of the village left relatively untouched by the violence, as well, and for that, Sakura was grateful.

"Do you need anything from your apartment?" Itachi asked, as they climbed to the third floor, where both of them lived. He had the grace to shoot her an apologetic look. "Tsunade-sama heavily implied that she would prefer for you to stay with me initially. She mentioned something about you occasionally being too stubborn for your own good, and like Naruto, lacking a basic self-preservation instinct."

"Oh, she's one to talk," Sakura scoffed, amused. "Tsunade-sama also believes that she is the village's best and most subtle matchmaker…if you haven't figured that out already."

"Yes, I got that impression as well," Itachi responded dryly, before unlocking and opening the door. His apartment was unsurprisingly immaculate, save for the few books that lay scattered on the coffee table, and an open scroll covered in desert recipes, in what looked like Chouji's handwriting.

"Oh, are the special lemon bars on there?" Sakura bent down to stare at the scroll, feeling her mouth water. "Once a week, Chouji, Ino, and I would go to his house after training for the chunin exams, and his mom would make them for us. Ino and I were always asking her for the secret ingredient, but she would just tell us it was love."

Itachi smiled – the expression looked beautiful on his tired face – and wrapped an arm around her. "I am sure that contributed as well, but the key ingredient you were probably thinking of was the passionfruit extract. I'll make them for you tomorrow."

"Passionfruit extract? I never would have thought…" Sakura mused, surprised, before shaking her head and linking her arm through his. Itachi then proceeded to give her a thoroughly unnecessary tour of his apartment, considering that hers was the same layout as his, and she just nodded, not quite taking anything in. It was still jarring, to see him so whole and physically intact, when in her last memory before losing consciousness, he had lost so much blood from that horrible, mangled stab wound, and he'd had that wide, vicious-looking kunai gash near the eye. He had looked half dead already, and just thinking back to it gave her chills.

"…And this is the bedroom," he finally concluded, leading her inside. The room was sparsely furnished but looked comfortable, like his bedroom at the Akatsuki base in Cloud had been. At that time, she had noted the complete lack of personal mementos on the walls or tables, but now, Itachi had framed the old family photograph of his parents and Sasuke and set it at his bedside. It was the same one she had commented on once, before she had fully regained her memory, and it made her heart ache to see it.

The bedroom also obviously hadn't been properly used in a while. The bed looked like it hadn't been touched in days, the curtains were drawn to cover the window, and from the half-open positions of the dresser drawers, Sakura guessed that Itachi had only been coming in and out to shower and grab a change of clothes every so often. She reached out, touching his chest, and it was difficult to restrain the impulse to do a diagnostic chakra test on him. Everything felt all right, though. Sasuke had done a good job, as had whoever fixed up his head wound and eye. There wasn't even a scar. "Have you been sleeping in the hospital _every _night?" she asked, dismayed. "I don't think that was conducive to the healing process…"

"I am fine, Sakura," Itachi stressed, putting his hand on hers. "I regained consciousness in a few hours, by dawn. Somebody had already taken care of my other wounds, and aside from exhaustion caused by moderate chakra depletion, I felt well."

"There were no complications, or anything?"

For some inexplicable reason, Itachi smirked a little. "I was rather dazed and confused for a few minutes after waking up. A couple of the attending medics initially feared memory loss."

Sakura laughed, surprised. On an entirely selfish note, she would have been _furious _if he had ended up with some kind of amnesia, and promptly forgotten about her, and their history together. _I mean, how on earth would you begin to explain that to someone? _Inner Sakura commented sardonically. _What a long and convoluted story that would be. _"How ironic."

"Indeed." Itachi gently wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck, drawing her close, to press a tender kiss against her forehead. Sakura thought that he would draw back for a proper kiss, then – she longed for it with such intensity that it was almost embarrassing, and she assumed that he felt the same way – but he stayed where he was, and his quiet sigh ruffled the hair on top of her head. She waited patiently, figuring that he would open up about whatever was on his mind sooner rather than later. True enough, he pulled away a little and looked at her seriously, the expression on his face troubled. "…Why did you do it, Sakura?"

Sakura frowned, confused. "Do what?"

"You compromised your own life in order to heal me. If it had taken Sasuke another thirty seconds to break free of that ninjutsu…" Itachi closed his eyes for a moment, looking overwhelmed. "…You could have died," he said, his voice barely audible. "We would have lost you."

Sakura reached up, cupping his face in one hand. He stared back at her, his face showing no sign of softening. "I knew what I was doing, Itachi."

He stepped back, away from her touch. If anything, her words seemed to disconcert him, rather than having the reassuring effect she had expected. "I would have never wanted you to sacrifice your life for me," he told her sharply. "_Never. _There are so many people who love you and care for you, and if Sasuke hadn't broken free of the ninjutsu, and I had woken up to find that you were gone—" Itachi stopped abruptly and looked away, his whole body tensing up, and he took a few deep breaths before continuing. "…It would have been too devastating to bear. I thought you knew that."

Touched by the uncharacteristic show of emotion, Sakura took his hand in hers, tugging on it lightly until he faced her again. "I did," she said softly. It was getting hard to speak around the lump in her throat.

"Then?" Itachi replied tersely. "Why did you—?"

Sakura shrugged one shoulder, at a loss for how best to justify her actions, as she looked up into his eyes. "Because I love you," she said simply. "And…I already thought that I had lost you once. It hurt so badly that it almost broke me. I just couldn't stand the thought of losing you again, right in front of my eyes – when I had just found you, after so long…"

Sakura trailed off, fighting back tears as she looked at the ground, trying to regain her composure. Itachi's light touch startled her, as he tilted her face back up to his, and wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb. He looked as though he was struggling to maintain his composure as well. "I love you too, Sakura," he whispered, his voice somewhat less steady than usual. "I love you too. And please don't ever do that again."

It felt like a weight had lifted off her heart, at saying and hearing those words again, after so very long, and she suspected that he felt the same way. It was the last thing they had said to each other before Itachi had knocked her out and returned her to Konoha – words that both of them must have thought in silence countless times over the period of their separation. Sakura couldn't stop the huge smile that spread across her face, as she curled her hand around Itachi's long ponytail, where it fell over his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at her, looking happier than she had seen him in a long time, and she stayed still for a moment, savoring the mutual anticipation that charged the air between them, before slowly pulling him down to her for a kiss.

The sensation was indescribably perfect, and even sweeter than their reunion a few days ago had been, due to the fact that they were free of distractions, this time. They spared a few moments to savor the simple press of their lips against one another's, and as hopelessly sentimental as it sounded, Sakura felt something crumble within her heart and then re-form as she pressed herself closer to him – as if she was a puzzle piece that had _finally _found its other half again. She had forgotten how much she and Itachi _fit _together, in more ways than one. As if he had read her mind, Itachi sighed into her mouth, the sound quiet and somehow broken, as he slid his arms around her waist, deepening the kiss with a gentleness that seemed incongruous, considering the almost-desperation of his grip. Sakura moaned softly, her hands moving to wrap around the back of his neck, anchoring herself to him upon feeling her knees actually tremble a little and threaten to give out.

Despite their mutual eagerness, they took it slow, in silent agreement. She couldn't remember the last time they had been so content to just kiss, and look into one another's eyes, treasuring every moment and tender touch. Eventually, though, the desire to be _closer _started to become overwhelming, and Sakura couldn't keep herself from sliding her hands down the collar of Itachi's long-sleeved black shirt, her palms caressing the warm skin of his shoulders and back, feeling the interplay of the strong muscles there. Itachi shivered beneath her touch, kissing her more firmly, his teeth nipping ever so slightly on her bottom lip. His thumbs inched under the hemline of her red vest, rubbing achingly slow, sensual circles against the bare skin of her waist, and Sakura felt her entire body tremble. She had wanted this – to be with the man she loved – on some level or another, ever since they had first been separated from each other, and she didn't think she could wait any longer.

She pulled away from him a fraction of an inch on impulse, taking his right hand and moving it from her waist, to place it on the zipper of her vest instead. "There," Sakura breathed, watching Itachi's eyes darken with desire, as she leaned toward him again. "That's better."

Itachi toyed with the zipper, but didn't pull it down. "We don't have to…go all the way," he whispered, pressing a line of kisses from her ear down her jawbone. "You are still recovering from an extremely taxing physical ordeal."

Sakura fought the urge to smile at how he could sound determined yet uncertain all at once. It brought back memories of the first night they had ever shared together. She tugged the zipper down a few inches, moving her cheek away from Itachi's lips and cupping his chin in her hands, making him look down at her. "But I want to." She bit her lip delicately, looking up at him through lowered eyelashes. During their first relationship, she had eventually discovered that utilizing this particular expression was one of the easiest ways to convince him to do something or another. In one memorable case, it had helped her convince him to role-play a scene from her favorite romance novel. Itachi had been reluctant at first, but they had both ended up enjoying it. "…Don't you?"

Itachi picked up on the allusion, as she had expected, and his lips curved upward a little, out of amusement as well as affection. "Some things never change, do they?" He kissed her again, long and sweet, until they were both breathless. He brushed his fingers against her exposed collarbone in a feather-light touch, his resolve visibly wavering, before looking down at her with a worried frown. "Would this violate Tsunade-sama's orders for you to avoid strenuous activity?"

Sakura had to laugh at his seriousness. She knew that if she said yes, he would promptly quarantine her in the bedroom and retreat to the security of the kitchen, ignoring every little bit of temptation he felt, and he raised an eyebrow in mild disapproval. "It doesn't have to, if you know what I mean," she said, purposefully being outrageously flirtatious.

Predictably enough, Itachi blushed, in a marked departure from his usual stoic demeanor. Rather than taking the opportunity to tease him, Sakura stood on the tips of her toes, giving him another kiss – and then she yelped, surprised, as he lifted her off her feet, supporting her with one arm underneath her knees and the other against her back. He walked her over to the bed, gently setting her down on the covers, against the pillows, and Sakura pulled him down with her, twining her arms around his shoulders and holding him close.

"I missed you," Itachi said, his voice low and barely audible, and revealing more emotion than she was used to hearing, as he settled next to her, nuzzling against her neck. "I never thought that…"

Sakura smoothed her fingers through his hair tenderly, resting her cheek against the top of his head for a moment. "I know," she replied, her voice catching in her throat. They had really found their way back to each other against all odds. There were so many times when, if just _one _thing had played out a little differently, they might have lost one another for good. "Me too."

What happened after felt like as much an exercise in patience as it was a reaffirmation of love. Again, through unspoken but mutual agreement, they took it slow, taking their time removing each layer of clothing, while pressing kisses and tender caresses to every inch of exposed skin. It was even more of an emotionally intense experience as it was a physical one, more so than it had ever been before. It was almost _too _overwhelming – she was beaming so hard her face hurt one moment, and on the verge of tears the next – and Sakura could tell that despite his less expressive demeanor, Itachi was just as deeply affected as she was.

They lay curled up together, afterwards, in relative silence, enjoying the feeling and unshakable sense of love and security that they had both missed so deeply. Sakura wanted to talk – there were so many things she wanted to say – but then Itachi leaned close and started brushing gentle kisses to her forehead and eyelids and nose and cheeks and lips, and the exhaustion was starting to creep back, slowly but surely, and her heart felt so full that it felt like it could burst. And for the first time in a very long time, it was from pure happiness and contentment, rather than heartache and anguish.

It wasn't a bad way to fall asleep, not at all, and Sakura didn't fight it for a moment.

* * *

By the time she awoke again, lifting her head off the pillow a fraction of an inch, and blinking at her surroundings blearily, feeling momentarily disoriented, light had stopped streaming through the curtains. From what she could see through the gap between the curtains and the wall, the sun had set and evening had fallen. Itachi was still lying next to her, holding her rather protectively, but he was fully dressed now, and Sakura's gaze focused on something in the room that hadn't been there before. A large vase of colorful orchids, beautifully arranged, sat on the bedside table. There was a get-well soon card propped open in front of it, and every inch of space was taken up by notes from her friends. Careful not to wake her companion, Sakura reached out, taking the card and drawing it closer to her.

"Naruto and Team Ten stopped by half an hour ago," Itachi said, making her jump, as he sat up. His smooth movements made it obvious that he hadn't been asleep, only resting, and in response to the playful swat she sent in his direction, he gave her a wry smile and a poke on the forehead. "I told them that you were sleeping, and they asked me to convey their regards. Naruto and Ino said they would like to visit you at this time tomorrow evening, if you are feeling up to it."

"I would love that." Sakura sat up as well, pulling the covers to her chest. Her stomach gave a painful twinge of hunger, and she winced. "How long have I been asleep?"

"About five hours."

"Hmm," Sakura rested her head against his shoulder, contemplating the ceiling. "Naruto didn't happen to bring any ramen, did he?"

Itachi shook his head ruefully. "Ichiraku's was destroyed in the attack. Teuchi and his family survived, though, and Naruto, Chouji, and a few of the other Akimichis are helping them rebuild the restaurant."

Sakura sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I'm so glad that they're all okay – you know that they lived right above the shop, right? Although I'm not sure how Naruto's going to survive for more than a week without his favorite food…"

"He'll manage," Itachi replied dryly, before taking one of her hands in his. Ever since he and Naruto had become reacquainted, he had been trying – and failing – to convince the younger shinobi to adopt a more healthy and balanced diet. "Are you hungry?"

Sakura pulled a face. "Horribly. I could eat a whole rack of those barbecued ribs that Kisame loved to make."

Itachi tilted his head thoughtfully, evidently mentally cataloguing the contents of his refrigerator. "I do not have any pork. Does spicy stir-fried noodles with chicken sound like an adequate replacement?"

"Is the sky blue?" Sakura asked, straight-faced. "Is the grass green?"

"…I will take that as a yes."

"Good call."

Itachi gave a lock of her hair a light, playful tug, before getting out of bed. Sakura got dressed as well, abandoning her vest, skirt, and shorts for an extra pair of his pajamas, and they made their way out of the bedroom, hand in hand. Predictably enough, he refused all four of her offers to help prepare dinner, and eventually, the pink-haired kunoichi drifted over to the leather sofa beside the window and settled down there, resting the side of her head against the wall. Outside of the open window, it was a beautiful evening. Konoha seemed to be saturated in the precise shade of lovely dark blue that occurred after sunset but before true nightfall, and she had never appreciated the sight of the village's lights against the darkness more. Her gaze lingered on each visible house and building, including Hokage Tower, in the distance, and her chest hurt with how much she grieved for those who would never take in this sight again.

_It could have been much worse, though, _Inner Sakura stated somberly. While there had been so many individual losses…as a whole, they had managed to survive. It was remarkable, considering the circumstances of the attack. And even though their ordeal was over, just thinking along those lines made her feel somewhat panicked. The terrible, all-consuming traumatic shock she had felt when she had pulled open the curtains in her bedroom to reveal the nightmarish sight of the village in flames, the specter of the Eight-Tailed Demon visible among them, would take a long time to subside.

Sakura kept looking out of the window for several minutes, lost in thought, and she gave a start of surprise at Itachi's light touch on her shoulder. He held two plates, piled high with streaming hot noodles, and she smiled at him gratefully, accepting one of them with a word of thanks. He sat close beside her as she dug into the noodles, too ravenous to spare a thought for decorum.

"You looked rather contemplative," he observed, and Sakura looked up at him wide-eyed, her mouth stuffed full to the point of bursting. The sight was rather reminiscent of a chipmunk, and he was unable to keep himself from laughing a little. "Not now. Earlier."

Sakura chewed determinedly for about a minute straight, before swallowing the massive mouthful of noodles, and then elbowing him in the ribs for laughing at her. "I was just wondering how long it would take to rebuild the village," she said, picking up another piece of chicken with her chopsticks. "And I was hoping that it doesn't put us in a vulnerable position."

Itachi shook his head contemplatively as he considered her question. "It might take up to two months before everything is fully repaired, and I do not anticipate that we will be seriously vulnerable to missing-nin or enemy villages during this time. I believe that Tsunade-sama had the same concerns, and she decided to keep most of the village's active duty forces in or near the village until it is rebuilt, just in case we need to defend ourselves."

Sakura nodded seriously, nestling her head against his shoulder. That was one less thing to worry about, at least. "I was thinking about Sasuke, too," she admitted quietly, feeling him tense up beneath her. "It keeps coming back to me – the thought of him chained up in one of those cells underneath Hokage Tower, for god knows how long, until everybody decides what to do with him." She stopped, taking a deep, shuddering breath. She had attempted to keep these thoughts at bay since she had regained consciousness, but it was no use, and she tried to wipe her eyes discreetly. "He's all alone. And he must be really, _really _scared."

"Yes," Itachi replied, his voice barely audible. Sasuke had an abundance of courage, to the point of recklessness, but even he must have been aware that his situation was dire; there was no chance that he would be able to escape the village. His fate lay in the hands of others, and he was powerless to stop it.

"You know, he could have run," Sakura continued, sitting up straight, and struggling to understand what had been going on in Sasuke's mind in the minutes after he had broken free of her ninjutsu. "After he finished healing you, he could have just sent up the flare to show Naruto and the others where we were, and disappeared. Their priority would have been to get us to safety, and you know that Sasuke would have been able to mask his chakra, and go _somewhere, _anywhere, to escape detection. Like you did, for so long. But he chose to stay, knowing what the consequences would be."

Itachi inclined his head a fraction of an inch, looking troubled. "It was the only honorable course of action, after everything else he did."

Sakura reached up, cupping his face in her hand and gently rubbing her thumb against the stress lines on his face. "It was seeing you that motivated him to do it, I'm sure. And…" she sighed, her shoulders slumping. "And I don't want him to be punished like _that _for it."

Itachi wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "Neither do I," he murmured, his voice sounding dangerously close to breaking. Sakura returned the embrace, trying to give him as much comfort as she could. Finally, all the breath left his body in a long exhalation, as he pulled back enough to look her in the eye. "I am trying not to be foolishly optimistic," he said, weighing each word carefully before speaking. The stress of the last several days made him look older than his years. "But instinct leads me to believe that ultimately, Tsunade-sama will not order an execution. The bloodline limit is valued too deeply, and it is in the village's interests to preserve and restore it."

Sakura bit her lip, concerned, as she considered the alternatives. "He might have his chakra sealed, then, and be confined to the village for the rest of his life."

"Most likely." Itachi eyed his remaining noodles for a few moments and then leaned over to put the plate on the coffee table, evidently having lost his appetite. "Sasuke deserves to face the consequences of his actions, and I think that would be a more appropriate method than execution."

"He's probably going to hate it," Sakura said flatly.

"It is better than the alternative, though, and I believe that Sasuke will see that – and eventually understand that it is the price to pay for what he did."

Sakura nodded in agreement, and they sighed in unison, intertwining their fingers together. After several minutes of sitting in comfortable silence, she spoke up again, tilting her head to look up at him curiously. "Itachi? Does…well, does _this_ feel different to you at all? Now, and earlier, when we were…"

He raised an eyebrow, obviously puzzled and about to ask for clarification, but then she saw understanding dawn on his face, before he inclined his head in acknowledgement. "It does," he confessed, sounding slightly confused. "…In a good way, though."

Sakura gently tugged their intertwined fingers closer to her face, before resting her cheek against their joined hands. The thought had initially crossed her mind right after they had first been together, before she had succumbed to sleep, and her conviction had only been strengthened while she had been waiting for him to finish cooking, earlier. "I know. I think it's because it was the first time we were ever together…" she hesitated momentarily, not wanting to hurt his feelings, but Itachi squeezed her hand lightly, the expression on his face prompting her to continue. "Honestly. With no secrets or lies between us."

Itachi made a small sound of assent in the back of his throat, evidently understanding her meaning. He reached out and touched her face, skimming his thumb down the line of her cheekbone in a feather-light caress, and his gaze flickered to his own hand, the expression in his eyes inscrutable. "You know who I am, now."

Sakura realized the direction his thoughts were going, and she leaned her face into his hand, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of his palm. "I do," she said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. "You're an honorable shinobi of Konoha, and an incredibly courageous person."

Itachi smiled at her slightly, although it was tinged with sadness. "You know what I mean, Sakura."

"I do," she repeated, holding his gaze. "…And if anything, it only makes me love you more."

Itachi just looked at her, evidently lost for words. It was true, though, on more levels than one. While she had fallen in love with him during her time with the Akatsuki…well, the emotion had been very real, but looking back now, Sakura couldn't really compare it to what she felt currently, and what she had felt, ever since she had found out that he was still alive. She didn't want to call it _shallow, _but – as long as her memory had been gone, although key parts of her personality still survived…she had been a fraction of herself, essentially. Now that she had recovered, and she was really, truly herself again…well, she loved him with everything that she _was_. It was beyond comparison to the way things used to be.

Itachi leaned in to kiss her then, soft and slow and tender, and when they finally pulled apart, he looked into her eyes…and then gave her a somewhat awkward pat on the knee. It was an amusing throwback to their first relationship, when he had first told her he loved her. Immediately afterwards, unsure of how to react as she stared at him, lost for words, he had just as awkwardly patted the top of her head. From the look on Itachi's face, she could tell that he was remembering the same thing, and he gave an abashed sigh. "…I don't think I can properly tell you how happy that you make me."

Sakura beamed, ignoring Inner Sakura's squealing about how adorable his occasional difficulties expressing deep emotion were. Much to Itachi's surprise, she grabbed his cheeks and pinched them affectionately. "You don't have to tell me!" she exclaimed. "Just smile more often. It would be nice to see some smile lines on your face rather than those old frown lines, Uchiha."

Itachi blinked, mortified. "I will do my best."

Sakura clapped her hands together, pleased. "Good. Otherwise I'd have to actually heal away those lines, and that would just be unnecessary effort."

Itachi watched her quietly for a few moments, taking in her bright, lively visage, and he was unable to keep from thinking back to the moment he had first laid eyes on her, on that brutally cold winter's night in the middle of the Land of Lighting. Sakura had been nothing more than a small figure, lying in the snow with her forehead terribly bruised and her eyes closed, in a pool of her own blood…half dead already. He still remembered how he had insisted that she could be saved, and how Kisame had argued that it wasn't possible, and that she was too far gone. It seemed like an eternity ago, and at that time, he could never have imagined how much she would come to mean to him. So much had taken place since then. Finding Sakura in the forest had set in place a chain of events that he would have thought utterly unfathomable – and much of it went back to the week that she had inadvertently discovered his illness and healed him. If it hadn't been for that, he would have succumbed to it a year ago, and "died" at Sasuke's hands, just like he had always planned.

But more importantly, throughout everything that had happened, _he_ had changed. Itachi had never realized it as much as he did at this moment, but he was a very different person than the one who had walked into that frozen forest with Kisame two years ago. A different person…with a different fate. Sakura had ensured that every time he had received the benefit of her care – through the illness, the crippling nerve damage he had suffered in the aftermath of his fight with Sasuke, and the fatal wound that he had taken during the last battle, with Madara…

…And in actuality, now that he thought about it, the idea that his life had been irrevocably changed _just _every time she had healed him, was flawed. It started much before then. Sakura had ensured that from the very first night that she had found her way into his life. He would never stop being grateful for the circumstances that had brought them both together.

Itachi cupped her face in both of his slightly trembling hands, ignoring the quizzical look in her eyes, and kissed her again, trying to convey all the emotion raging inside him with that one simple gesture. When they drew apart, at long last, Sakura blinked at him, her eyes looking suspiciously shiny, and then she lightly stroked the bridge of his nose with the tip of her finger. "What was that for?" she asked softly.

Itachi looked into her eyes unblinkingly, taking her hands in his. "…You have healed me in more ways than you could possibly imagine," he said slowly, carefully, but despite his best efforts, his voice shook a little. "…And I never want to let you go again."

The smile that spread across Sakura's face as soon as she comprehended the meaning of the words was one of the most beautiful things that Itachi had ever seen. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, the touch soft and light. "You'll never have to," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat, as she looked up at him. "I promise."

There was nothing that he could do now but stand up, and offer his hand to her, which he did. Sakura took it, playfully tapping her finger against the gentle smile that curved Itachi's lips as she rose to her feet. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she slid hers around his waist, and as they walked back to the bedroom, turning the lights off as they did so, both of them reflected, separately, that the future had never looked brighter.

* * *

_the end._

* * *

I would like to thank all of you so much for reading, and for your amazing patience in following this story from beginning to end. :) I am also tremendously grateful to everybody who has ever left any comments or feedback. I enjoyed reading every single one of them, and they gave me encouragement during every one of my occasional fits of writer's block.

Writing this story was really different, because in all of my previous ItaSaku fics, Itachi and Sakura met, instantly hated each other, and then eventually fell in love. With this one, I just wanted to do it in reverse…but then eventually work it around to the happy ending that I felt both of them deserved. So the idea for this piece, with Sakura's amnesia, has been lingering in my head for literally _years, _since after I completed Before The Dawn. It was wonderful to finally tell the story that I've wanted to for so long, and I hope that you enjoyed reading it as well.

There will also be an epilogue chapter coming up soon, to provide some insight into the rest of Itachi and Sakura's life together, and tie up a couple of loose ends. Until then, I would love to hear your thoughts, and as always, any and all feedback would be very much appreciated. :)


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